<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>How It Falls by floorcoaster</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25873312">How It Falls</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/floorcoaster/pseuds/floorcoaster'>floorcoaster</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Community: hp_drizzle, F/M, HP Drizzle Fest 2020, Minor Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:49:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>47,435</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25873312</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/floorcoaster/pseuds/floorcoaster</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Pansy Parkinson wants to live life her own way, but her mother has other ideas—specifically, she wants her to marry a certain type of wizard.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>94</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>146</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>HP Drizzle Fest 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. - one -</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Many, many thanks to my fabulous beta and also to my unofficial-official alpha. Story title, chapter titles, and song lyrics throughout from “The Beauty of the Rain” by Dar Williams.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center"><p>
    <i>Well you know the light is fading all too soon<br/>
You're just two umbrellas one late afternoon<br/>
You don't know the next thing you will say </i>
  </p><hr/>
<p>1.</p></div><p>Pansy’s robes were made of the finest silk available to anyone in the world. Tens of thousands of magically-enhanced silkworms were bred in a facility owned by her family in China, and from their silk, thread was spun and fabric woven for sale to the finest wizarding families and fashion designers in every country. The Parkinsons had owned the silk production facility since the early 19th century, when a prominent ancestor, Falmadge Parkinson, bought it on a whim after seeing the silk cocoons and the entire process for himself. He declared that all Parkinson women should be outfitted in silk for all occasions, from the banal to the extraordinary.</p>
<p>One very important detail, that had been long since managed, was the effect of the elements on silk. If one were to wear nothing but the fine material, one must be prepared for all forms of precipitation. Hence, as part of their creation, Parkinson Silks were woven with magical thread to make them highly resistant, nearly impervious to rain, snow, sleet, or hail. It was why they were so expensive and sought after. Falmadge paid dearly for someone to invent the Charm, then he killed the inventor and kept the secret in the family, passing it down from generation to generation. </p>
<p>Silk was as common in the Parkinson home as hair pins, yet Amaryllis Parkinson treated each and every piece like a priceless treasure. From the draperies to the table runners, the ribbons to the gowns, silk was everywhere. Pansy’s Hogwarts robes had been specially made from carefully dyed silk, the Slytherin patch embroidered by hand with silk thread. Even her knickers were a silk-cotton blend. The only time Pansy could remember wearing anything other than silk was after the war. Her parents hadn’t wanted to project the image of being far removed from the struggles of the rest of the wizarding world. However, once an appropriate amount of time had passed, all of the silks were brought out and, Pansy suspected, everything they’d worn during that period was burned.</p>
<p>Since Pansy’s mother had married into the Parkinson family, she’d heaped the weight of responsibility for being overly concerned about the family’s legacy of silk onto her own petite shoulders. Pansy had grown up being scolded for even looking at the drapes wrong, and she’d learned at a very young age how to repair snags in silk. Prowess with a needle and thread was very difficult to learn by magic, especially on such a delicate material, so Pansy’s oldest sister had learned from a favorite house-elf how to mend silk, and she had then taught each of her sisters in turn. It became a very important survival skill for avoiding their mother’s shrill wrath.</p>
<p>Pansy’s place in the family had always been somewhat murky. Pansy’s oldest sister, Dahlia, had married Felix Rosier, and their union had been celebrated as the greatest since Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Next in line was Holly, who had completely rebelled and moved to Rome where she was dating a witch. Pansy hadn’t seen her in three years. Pansy was next, followed by Iris, the baby. </p>
<p>Pansy wasn’t the oldest, upon whom all the hopes for their futures rested, nor was she the youngest, spoiled and babied until she was a wretch of a young woman. Iris mainly lived to shop and travel and be pampered, and from a very early age, had her eyes peeled for a husband who could support her lavish lifestyle. She was presently engaged to Theodore Nott’s younger brother, Steven, who had been gifted a portion of the Nott estate upon coming of age and had turned it into a brilliant business venture. He, alone, was worth almost as much as his family’s fortune. </p>
<p>All eyes were on Pansy now with a mixture of expectation and skepticism. She couldn’t possibly marry as well as Dahlia, nor as rich as Iris. The one consolation to her parents was that at least she hadn’t run away and taken up with <i>some woman</i>. It made Pansy seriously consider doing just that. Their greatest disappointment, however, even worse than Holly’s rebellion, had been when Pansy failed to snag Draco Malfoy. She’d certainly tried, as her mother had coached her during their school years. The truth was, she’d simply never felt anything for him beyond friendship, despite their fooling around a little before his task in sixth overwhelmed him. </p>
<p>Now he was happily married to Hermione Granger, of all people, which Amaryllis had somehow twisted into being Pansy’s fault. Pansy’s fault that he’d abandoned centuries of pureblood ideology and chose to join his life to a Muggle-born witch. Her fault that he’d nearly been completely disowned, saved only at the last second by his mother, a saga that had stretched over eight months and had been the subject of endless gossip. <i>Her fault</i> that Lucius could only barely tolerate his son’s presence, to say nothing of Granger’s. <i>Her fault</i> that Narcissa was forced to visit her granddaughter in her son’s home, that the fledgling family wasn’t welcome at the Manor, that the child was born on the same day as the anniversary of the death of Abraxus Malfoy from Dragon Pox.</p>
<p>It was no wonder, then, that she didn’t even try when Amaryllis invited some ‘eligible bachelor’ and his family for a meal. Pansy would come to dinner to find a new family there to meet her, Amaryllis all plastered smiles and a look that clearly told Pansy if she didn’t behave she’d never see another Knut in her personal vault. On those very special—and alarmingly frequent—occasions, Pansy would behave subversively, just on the edge of perfect. When she was granted a few minutes alone with the gentleman, she’d be very frank and thank him for his kind attention, which wasn’t really focused on her in the first place. She knew they’d been dragged out by their parents just the same as she.</p>
<p>And, unbeknownst to Pansy, that story would repeat itself tonight.</p><hr/>
<p>Pansy stared at her reflection with indifference. She’d selected a set of teal robes because teal was her Tuesday color and she didn’t give a rat’s arse about dinner with her parents. It would be just another opportunity for her mother to deliver a lengthy diatribe about what a disappointment Pansy was, and how wonderfully the wedding plans were coming along, and how many diamonds would be in Iris’ dress, and how much money Steven Nott made that week. There would be updates about Dahlia’s perfect children, and Felix’s work successes, and how many countries they’d visited in the last month.</p>
<p>At least these family-only dinners had dwindled in frequency to once a month. Her sisters were all too busy to join them, but Pansy had no excuses and was forced to endure. She should just marry the first bloke she saw on her next trip to Diagon Alley and be done with it. If only it could be that simple. </p>
<p>No, with her luck, it would be someone like Neville Longbottom, and then she’d never hear the end of the rants enumerating her failures.</p>
<p>Pansy sighed and pinned her hair up, not sure why she was bothering. Her parents wouldn’t have anything nice to say; she’d tune her mother out during the “improve yourself” portion of the evening’s pep talk, then go home and drink herself to sleep. Possibly after stopping at Draco’s to unload on Granger, who’d become something of a friend, though she’d never admit it, even on pain of death or clashing prints. </p>
<p>But at least if she made herself look like she cared, she’d be spared that particular point on Amaryllis’ unending list of disappointments. She picked some earrings and a necklace and even put a sparkly comb in her hair. </p>
<p>Whatever.</p>
<p>With a heavy sigh, she went to her fireplace and placed a Floo call to her childhood home.</p>
<p>She landed with a small puff of ash and used her wand to brush herself off. There was no one there to receive her, so Pansy grumbled all the way to the dining room, where she expected her parents to already be seated. She <i>was</i> fashionably late, after all. </p>
<p>There was nobody there, but Pansy noted that the table had been set for six. She groaned and started straight for the fireplace, only to be intercepted halfway there.</p>
<p>“Ah! There you are, Pansy, my dear.” Amaryllis held out her arms and Pansy dutifully walked into them, kissing her mother on both cheeks. She was vaguely aware of a man and woman standing down the hall with who she assumed was their son. “We have guests.” Amaryllis gave her a look of pure, cold steel, and Pansy knew that the usual threats were in play.</p>
<p>Pansy forced herself to smile and allowed her mother to introduce her. “This is Frederick Gray, from Munich, and his parents, Gertrude and Rolf.”</p>
<p>The usual pleasantries were exchanged, and then Pansy’s father, who only seemed to appear when it was time for him to say something, beckoned the party to the dining room for dinner. </p>
<p>The meal passed agonizingly slowly, but at least she didn’t have to sit through a lecture. Pansy smiled and carried on small talk with the wizard at her side, who seemed about as interested in her as she was in him. They even managed to admit as much, and had a jolly time together pretending to charm each other throughout the evening. After she said goodbye to the Gray family, Pansy whirled on her mother. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her father slink out of the room, probably to find the nearest tumbler of firewhisky. </p>
<p>“Tonight was supposed to be just us,” she snarled. “Why did you invite them?”</p>
<p>Amaryllis was boldly unapologetic. “They were only in town for the evening. But what are you complaining about? You seemed to hit it off with Frederick.”</p>
<p>Pansy started to object, but something inside her snapped instead. She Apparated to the edge of the grounds, stepped through the wards, and continued her journey, arriving in Diagon Alley. It had been the first place she’d thought of, the best place to find a drink and a dark corner where she could properly sulk. </p>
<p>One thing she hadn’t considered, however, was the rain. It was pouring, and she’d arrived in the middle of the street. She was soaked in seconds, the torrential downpour obliterating the delicate Charm on her robes. At first, she was so surprised by the fact that her teal robes were drenched that she just stood there, staring down at the ruined fabric.</p>
<p>Then she started laughing. She laughed so hard she started crying, falling to her knees and sobbing in the middle of the street. The rain was so thick, she doubted anyone could even see her there. She sobbed for the misery that was her existence, for how much she let her mother’s words wound her, even though she told herself every time she wouldn’t. As her tears mingled with the rain, she began to feel renewed. The heavy rainfall didn’t last but for a few minutes, and when it slowed a bit, she pushed herself to her feet. </p>
<p>She couldn’t very well go to a pub now, not sopping wet in ruined robes. Instead, she went to Draco’s, Apparating directly into his kitchen and causing Hermione to scream.</p>
<p>“Merlin, Pansy!” The witch immediately Summoned a towel and wrapped it around Pansy’s shoulders, her eyes flicking to a baby clock on the wall. There were a few hands on it, one of which was pointed to ‘asleep.’ They waited a moment, hardly daring to breathe, but nothing changed. “You're lucky I have a Silencing Charm on Lyra's room. Now, what happened?”</p>
<p>Pansy felt more alive than she could remember feeling in a long time. She gave Hermione her favorite ‘you’re barmy’ look. “Nothing whatsoever, Granger. Thank you for asking.” She stepped out of the puddle she’d started on the floor and headed for the master bedroom. “Draco’s away, right?”</p>
<p>Hermione followed, cleaning up the puddles left in Pansy’s wake. “Yes, he’ll be back tomorrow from Brazil.”</p>
<p>“Good.” Pansy began stripping off the dress, the fabric tearing easily. When she got to the room Hermione and Draco shared, she went straight to the closet and pulled out the first thing she put her hands on. </p>
<p>“Do you… want to talk?” Hermione stood in the closet doorway, hands full of torn, dripping shreds of teal silk. </p>
<p>Pansy tugged on a pair of Hermione’s sweatpants and pulled one of Draco’s long-sleeve shirts over her head. “I’m right as rain, Granger. Never better.” She strolled out of the closet on her way to the fireplace. “You can burn that.” A brief roar behind her made her smirk. Just as she reached the mantel, however, she felt Hermione’s hand on her arm.</p>
<p>“Pansy, you have to talk to me. I’m worried about you.” Hermione’s eyes were wide with concern.</p>
<p>“Everything is fine.” Pansy forced a reassuring smile. “I had dinner with my parents tonight.”</p>
<p>“Oh! Right. I’m sorry. Usually, though, you want to talk after. And you don’t show up soaked to the skin and destroy your dress as you strip it off while walking down my hallway.” Hermione gave her a pointed look.</p>
<p>Pansy huffed. “Listen, Granger. You’re right, that’s what I’d normally do, or not do, whatever, but tonight is different. I’m fine. I’m headed home to get a good night’s rest. I’ll owl Draco’s shirt back to you as soon as I get home.” She waited just long enough to see Hermione start to believe her. Then she left in a cloud of green smoke.</p><hr/>
<p>The next time Pansy was forced to sit through a dinner with another potential suitor, she’d intentionally gone somewhere it was raining. Then, she’d pulled her robes off and mailed them, thoroughly soaked, to her mother, along with a thank you card for the lovely evening.</p>
<p>The third time, Pansy went back to her parents’ home after finding a rainstorm just so she could watch the look on her mother’s face when she saw the state of her robes. It had been worth the screeching that followed when her mother fainted—actually <i>fainted</i>—as the fabric tore when Pansy crossed her arms.</p><hr/>
<p>Eight months had passed since she’d first discovered that heavy rain destroyed the Charm on the silk. Amaryllis barely spoke, which Pansy didn’t mind one bit. They still got together for family meals once a month, which were cold, miserable affairs. Interspersed with those were occasions when her mother would invite some poor, unsuspecting sod over in an attempt to convince the family to pursue Pansy. And after every one of those instances, Pansy would ruin her gown. She’d get it wet somehow and send the pieces to her mother. Amaryllis never said a word about it, never acknowledged it. </p>
<p>Then the invitations had stopped, and for two months, Pansy had waited for the inevitable return of hostilities. Finally, it had come. Amaryllis had owled out of the blue, begging Pansy to join them for dinner the following evening. Suspecting an ambush, Pansy put on her finest, most expensive set of robes, pale yellow silk as smooth as butter. She made every effort to look her very best, from the tiara and dramatic up-do to the diamonds on the soles of her shoes. </p>
<p>Maybe she could conjure a rain cloud over the dining room table.</p>
<p>When Pansy arrived, her mother was waiting, a satisfied, mischievous smirk on her face. She quickly linked arms with Pansy, said not a word about her appearance, and led her into the hallway. “Pansy, dearest, I believe you remember Gregory Goyle from school?”</p>
<p>Pansy froze. </p>
<p>She felt her mother chuckle smugly beside her. “Greg, it’s so good to see you again. How I remember those summers when you boys would come over and spend a week with us.”</p>
<p>Greg glanced anxiously at Pansy before looking back to her mother. “Mrs. Parkinson. Thank you for inviting us. Some of my best memories are from those summers.”</p>
<p>Amaryllis entered into conversation with Greg’s mother, and Pansy quietly seethed. Greg? Why <i>him?</i> Despite his pureblood status, he was the last man Pansy would have expected her mother to try and set her up with. Her mother had disparaged him on countless occasions, mocking his intelligence, his vault account balance, his looks, and his career—though Pansy didn’t see anything inherently wrong with being the owner of a magical sweets shop. Draco had thought it worthy of his attention and investment, and Greg was doing very well for himself.</p>
<p>Naturally, this had to be some sort of power play, and Pansy was determined to figure it out before the soup course.</p>
<p>Pansy and her potential suitor were, as usual, seated next to each other. Unfortunately, despite racking her brain for some angle on what her mother was up to, she couldn’t even begin to guess why the Goyles had been granted an invitation to not only dinner, but the chance to woo Pansy. Every year that Pansy had remained single, her parents had upped her dowry, even though most families had abandoned the practice after the war. Specifically, after Hermione Granger married Draco Malfoy and turned every pureblood tradition on its head. Just to spite everybody, Draco had given Hermione’s parents a large pile of gold from his vault, then married their daughter in front of a Justice of the Peace in Yosemite National Park in the United States. </p>
<p>It always made Pansy sigh to think of it; the photos had been absolutely spectacular, and Hermione had looked breathtakingly, radiantly happy. It wasn’t that Pansy wished <i>she’d</i> been marrying him, she only wished she had someone she wanted so badly that she’d give up as much as he had. That she might look at someone the way Hermione looked at Draco.</p>
<p>She’d only barely forgiven them for not telling her of their plans. </p>
<p>“I take it you didn’t know?” Greg whispered. </p>
<p>Pansy rolled her eyes. “My mother hasn’t spoken to me since I jumped into a pool while wearing the robes she gave me for my last birthday.” She shrugged. “Turns out chlorine is horrible on white silk. Who knew?”</p>
<p>Greg chuckled. “I can’t imagine. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I had no idea.”</p>
<p>“Don’t apologize,” Pansy insisted, patting his arm. “It’s not your fault that I’m single and my mother can’t rest until I’m officially out of her hair. I should remain unmarried for the next thirty years. I think she’d impale herself on a garden statue long before that though.” Greg looked shocked, which made Pansy laugh. “Not that I’d want that, of course.” She winked though, confusing Greg even more.  </p>
<p>“I don’t see me ever getting married.” Greg shook his head. “My parents are trying desperately to hold onto the old traditions, but they just can’t seem to find anyone. I don’t really help matters.”</p>
<p>“Me either,” she said with a sniff. “I’m glad we’re on the same page tonight. It’ll make our time together much more pleasant.”</p>
<p>The evening did pass agreeably, as far as her time with Greg was concerned, but by the end, Pansy was ready to spit fire. As soon as the Goyles were gone, Pansy rounded on her mother. </p>
<p>“Really, mother? <i>Greg?!</i>”</p>
<p>Amaryllis looked triumphant, though Pansy couldn’t imagine what she’d have to be so smug about. “I think it’s time you realized, Pansy darling, how very deep in the barrel we’re at. I’ve scraped just about every suitable wizard I could find to present to you, but you spurn every one, and none of them will even return my owls anymore. Gregory Goyle is what’s left for you.”</p>
<p>Pansy gritted her teeth. “I don’t need you to find me a husband, Mother. I’m more than capable of finding someone on my own—or not, if that’s what I choose!”</p>
<p>“Oh, darling, don’t lie to yourself. How do you think your sisters landed such fabulous wizards? Hm?” Her face twisted into something of a snarl. “Sheer luck? No, it was through my careful ministrations and politicking. But you, Pansy, don’t seem very interested in securing a good match, since you’ve trampled on all my efforts to introduce you to promising prospects.”</p>
<p>“I never asked you to do that! Never! Not once!”</p>
<p>“It’s my duty to see you taken care of,” Amaryllis bit back. </p>
<p>Pansy shook her head. “No, mother, it’s not. You’ve done your duty by me. I release you.” She tried to walk past her mother, to reach the fireplace so she could leave, but her mother blocked her path.</p>
<p>“Now you listen to me, Pansy Cordelia. I will not have you mucking up the good name of your father just because you refuse to listen to reason and accept my help. If you don’t want to settle down and marry someone, then you’ll be on your own. Are we very clear?”</p>
<p>Pansy narrowed her eyes. “Perfectly, Mother.” This time, Amaryllis didn’t stop her from leaving. </p>
<p>She took the Floo home to her flat in the wizarding section of London and saw that it was raining. A thrill ran through her, and she Apparated directly into Diagon Alley. She was instantly hit with big, fat, cold drops of rain, and once the initial shock wore off, she felt all of the tension seep out of her muscles, washed away with the water. </p>
<p>As always, her dress was now ruined, and it wouldn’t be long before it started shredding as she moved. It wasn’t pouring, as she preferred, just raining enough to get wet. There was a fountain about midway down the alley, and she’d used it before in a pinch or when she was really angry. She wanted to sink into the water and watch her dress billow out around her. It was nighttime, and with the rain, she didn’t have to worry too much about people seeing her.</p>
<p>She saw a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye but paid it no attention as she neared the fountain. With the sound of the water pounding the pavement, she didn’t hear him approach, didn’t notice him, until he was right beside her. Honestly, the first indication that something was different was the fact that the rain stopped pelting her face.</p>
<p>Pansy looked beside her as she finally sensed the presence of another human being. A man was standing there, holding an umbrella, wearing a very bewildered expression.</p>
<p>“What are you doing?” She jumped away and out from under the shelter of the umbrella.</p>
<p>“<i>Me?</i> What am <i>I</i> doing?” he repeated incredulously, stepping forward again to shield her from the rain. “You’re the one walking around in this downpour, actively trying to get away from a person offering you an umbrella!”</p>
<p>“You shouldn’t approach strangers on the street.” She wrapped her arms around her, suddenly cold and wary of this tall, dark, possibly handsome stranger.  </p>
<p>The man chuckled and glanced over his shoulder. “Come on. My brother’s shop is right over there. It’s closed, but I can get us in. You can dry off, and I’ll find you something warm to drink.”</p>
<p>Pansy peered through the rainy haze, trying to see which shop he might be referring to, but she couldn’t tell, as most shops were closed and therefore no lights were on. “Fine. But I’ve got my wand, and if you try anything, I’ll hex you into next week.”</p>
<p>He chuckled in a way that told her he wasn’t the least bit concerned, then held out his arm, motioning for her to join him, finally, under the umbrella. Pansy did, her teeth now chattering. She didn’t understand that; it had never happened before. She’d always gotten drenched, then usually went to Granger’s house, changed her clothes, and went home to bed. Maybe this new development was responsible for the way she was reacting to being wet.</p>
<p>When they neared the sidewalk, a wide awning stretched over it. Pansy recognized the shop and she stopped, still in the street. The man kept walking, unaware that his companion was no longer by his side. When he was beneath the awning, he furled his umbrella, then turned and looked at her with a puzzled grin. </p>
<p>“Weasley?” There was almost no possible way this man before her was Ron Weasley. For one thing, he… he was… <i>Well</i>, she didn’t mind looking at him all that much. He was tall, but she remembered that. He’d definitely grown into a man, with broad shoulders, slight facial hair along his angled jawline, piercing blue eyes, and the hint of a tattoo peeking out from under the collar of his crisp white button-up.  </p>
<p>His eyes narrowed in concentration as he returned the appraising look, finally widening when he recognized her. “Pansy Parkinson? What in Merlin’s—will you come out of the rain, you daft woman!” He stepped out from under the protection of the awning, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her gently until they were both safely out of the rain. </p>
<p>The shirt she had so admired a moment ago was now wet on the shoulders, with a smattering of rain drops going down the front. His hair, which had been neatly styled, now hung limply in a few places, and water was dripping from a clump of hair plastered to his forehead. Then she shivered, and Ron hurried to unlock and open the door to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. </p>
<p>He entered the shop with a confidence that surprised Pansy, walking with purpose toward the back. “This way.” </p>
<p>Pansy stepped carefully, feeling awful for the trail of watery footprints she left behind her. They came to a door labeled ‘STAFF’ and Ron pushed it open. With barely a flick of his wrist, he started a fire roaring in the hearth and then began filling a tea kettle with water. He set it in the fire and then turned to face her. </p>
<p>“What do you need?”</p>
<p>Pansy bit her lip. This was all so much; she’d only been getting wet, it wasn’t like he’d saved her from drowning or rescued her from a dragon. But his expression was so earnest, so ready to please, that she decided to just go with it. “Well, I suppose I’d like to change out of this… mess.”</p>
<p>Ron glanced down to see what Pansy meant and his eyes widened. “Is that… what happened?”</p>
<p>“It’s silk, Weasley. It doesn’t do so well when it gets wet.” She gave a tug on a piece of the skirt, causing it to tear. </p>
<p>Quick as a flash, Ron pulled out his wand. “We can fix that! And… and dry it.”</p>
<p>Pansy barked a laugh. “No thanks. Drying silk with a wand is not something I’m interested in doing for the next twelve hours.” At his incredulous look, she continued. “You can’t just flick your wand and dry silk like you would most other materials. First of all, the magical heat would have a devastating effect on the threads themselves, then there’s the matter of the Water-Repellant Charm that’s woven into the fabric. The heat would mangle that and the results would be a mess. Well, a different kind of mess than it is now. Plus, I don’t fancy being <i>in</i> the dress if someone were to attempt to dry it.”</p>
<p>“Oh, um, all right.” Ron tucked his wand into the back pocket of his trousers. Pansy’s eyes were drawn to the movement and she noted the excellent fit of his clothing. “Well, I can grab you some clothes to change into, if you’d like. I live in the flat above the shop.”</p>
<p>Pansy nodded primly. “Thank you. I appreciate the kindness.”</p>
<p>Ron disappeared through another door at the back of the office and she heard heavy steps on wooden stairs. Pansy shivered and grimaced at the amount of water on the floor. There was no point in cleaning up the puddle beneath her, but she could do something about the trail through the shop. She removed her wand from her purse and pushed open the office door. With a few muttered spells, she siphoned the water off the floor and deposited it into a plant that was in the corner of the office.</p>
<p>She did the same with the smaller puddles in the small, cramped room, and just as the water was disappearing into the pot, she heard the same thumping of someone descending the stairs. </p>
<p>“Here you are.” Ron set a pile of clothes on the table beside Pansy. “Um, I’ll just go… back upstairs, you can change in here.”</p>
<p>“Thanks, Weasley.” She gave him a teeny, tiny smile. </p>
<p>Ron returned it with a half smile of his own, then bounded back upstairs. Pansy made quick work of peeling the wet robes from her body, cast a drying charm on her underthings, then put on the clothes Ron had brought. They were much like what she’d taken from Granger’s house, loose comfortable pants and a t-shirt, but where those had smelled familiar, Ron’s clothes had an entirely new aroma. Something spicy and woodsy with a hint of mint. It was… not unpleasant. </p>
<p>When she realized she was lingering over the scent, she huffed and wadded up the wet robes. She needed somewhere to put them and quickly located a shopping bag. She used a Repellent Charm to make the bag waterproof, then stuffed the ruined garment into it. Then she was alone in the office, and it occurred to her that they’d made no further plans beyond her changing clothes. She really ought to at least thank him and say goodbye before she left, so Pansy decided to follow him up the staircase. Just as she reached the foot of the stairs, a door opened above and she heard Ron coming down.</p>
<p>Pansy backed away and waited. Ron appeared a moment later with a tray laden with the usual accoutrements of a proper tea. He blushed a bit, when his eyes fell on her, and he turned away to set the tray on the counter. “I said I’d bring you something warm to drink. I don’t know how you take your tea, but I think I’ve got everything you might want. Tea, sugar, lemon, milk. If there’s something else, I can run up and—”</p>
<p>“No, that’s fine,” she said in a rush. “Thank you, Weasley.”</p>
<p>He gave her an odd look, then picked up the tray again. “Come on. Let’s go into the shop. There’s a fabulous corner where George put some of the most comfortable chairs imaginable.”</p>
<p>Pansy followed him through the store, admiring the displays and gasping when some of the products tried to encourage her to purchase them. </p>
<p>“Sorry about that.” Ron grinned sheepishly. “George doesn’t bother shutting everything down at night. Here we are.” They’d arrived in a brightly colored corner with a smattering of chairs and tables. “It was my idea to provide a place where parents could leave their little ones without fear that they’d get into something that could really cause trouble.” He pointed to a fenced off area, inside which was a playhouse and all kinds of toys. “They’re all Weasley products, of course, but nothing too wild. Parents can sit and relax a bit, see their wee ones interact with the toys. Helps business.”</p>
<p>“It’s… really a great idea,” Pansy said, unwilling to hide the surprise in her tone. She sat in a bright green chair while Ron set the tray down on a low table between them before sitting in a bright blue chair. </p>
<p>He poured her tea and then his own, indicating that she should prepare her cup to her liking. Pansy hesitated. She preferred two lumps of sugar, but she’d been scolded so often by her mother for it that she never indulged around company. When she watched Ron dump three lumps plus a dollop of cream, she quickly gave herself two, hoping he wouldn’t notice. She saw a lovely selection of biscuits on a silver tray. </p>
<p>Ron selected one and took a bite. “My Mum made these. She sends me a package every week or so. She knows I’m rubbish in the kitchen.” He chewed thoughtfully. “Well, with baking, anyway. Too much like Potions.” He shuddered.</p>
<p>Pansy laughed. Her eyes met his and she felt awkward for a moment. </p>
<p>“So.” Ron swallowed his last bite. “You going to tell me what this was all about? I mean, I was on my way to the Leaky for a pint, no grand plans and all, so I don’t mind the unexpected interruption. But why were you walking down the street, apparently of your own free will, ruining your dress?”</p>
<p>“Oh. That.” She took a dainty sip from her tea cup, suddenly at a loss for words. Ron Weasley, whom she couldn’t recall seeing since the flurry of activity following the Final Battle, was a complete stranger, for all intents and purposes. He knew of her, but he knew nothing about her; how could he possibly understand the complicated inner workings of her family? But then, she wasn’t about to divulge any of the mess that was her life to Ron Weasley. “That was to get back at my mother. She gave me those robes for my birthday.” She scrunched up her nose. “Yellow looks terrible on me.”</p>
<p>Ron blinked and looked down at his tea cup. “I don’t mean to sound like I keep up with your family—because I have better things to do—but everyone knows your family has a monopoly on magical silk. While I don’t know a whole lot about fabric, I’d bet a few Galleons that those robes you just trashed cost more than my rent here.”</p>
<p>“You pay rent to live above the shop your brother owns?” </p>
<p>“Yeah.” Ron chuckled. “He may be my brother, but he’s certainly not going to give me a break or actively make my life easier. That’s not George.”</p>
<p>Pansy snorted. “Sounds like my sisters.”</p>
<p>“You’re changing the subject.” Ron winked and it did something very funny to her nerves. </p>
<p>“Yes, the robes were the finest silk money can buy and it was the—twentieth? Twenty-first? Honestly I’ve lost count—set I’ve ruined in a year.” She frowned. “I suppose the message isn’t sinking in like I’d hoped it would by now.”</p>
<p>“What message is that?” Ron asked, his voice strangely gentle.</p>
<p>Pansy looked at him to find his piercing blue eyes watching her. “That I don’t want her trying to run my life. That I can find a husband all on my own—or not—thank you very much. That I can fucking dress myself, I’m not a child.” She immediately blushed and took another sip of tea. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” In horror, she eyed the liquid she’d just consumed.</p>
<p>Ron laughed, slapping his knee in his mirth. “I didn’t lace it! I swear! Run a check if you want.”</p>
<p>She didn’t hesitate. This might be Ron Weasley, famous war hero and friend of The Boy Who Lived, but he might also be like just about everyone else she encountered, eager to sell a story for a bag of gold. When her diagnostic spell came back clear, she let herself relax again. </p>
<p>He quirked an eyebrow and continued with his cup. “Satisfied?”</p>
<p>“Yes. I am.” And, oddly, she was. Despite not knowing him, Pansy found it easy to be in his presence. His manner was relaxed, his smile easy, as though it was something he was used to doing often. He was such a contrast to most of the men she interacted with, even Greg, whom she’d known since they were very young. Greg still carried himself the way he’d been taught from infancy; though, to be fair, he, like her, behaved differently when their parents were present. </p>
<p>But Ron was so relaxed she imagined it was natural for him. He wasn’t sitting ramrod straight, like she was; he had one leg propped up on the other, and his hands rested lightly on the arms of the chair. His fingers hung loosely over the edge when he wasn’t holding his cup, and she found herself staring at them while she searched for something to say.</p>
<p>Her tea cup was only half full, and decorum dictated that she stay until it was empty. It also required dainty, feminine sips, so as to make the event one of social discourse, rather than food consumption. “So. Weasley. What do you do here?”</p>
<p>Ron glanced around the shop, his eyes resting on a few areas before returning to look at her. “I help George. I’m not Fred, and I don’t think like they do. So, I’m not good with coming up with product ideas.” He chuckled and dragged a hand through his hair. “I do a fair amount of product testing, which isn’t always fun, but George has given me some control over displays in the last year or so. I enjoy that a lot, actually.”</p>
<p>“What do you mean, control over displays?” She couldn’t help herself; she was interested in what he was saying. Merlin, what a bizarre day it was turning into.</p>
<p>Ron hesitated, then jumped out of his seat, startling her. “Come on, I’ll show you.”</p>
<p>Pansy deliberated quickly, then downed the rest of her tea and followed him. He led her near the front of the store and showed her two Weasley products. </p>
<p>“Which one do you prefer?” He pointed to a display for the Skivving Snackboxes, one of the very first things the Weasley twins invented. Pansy recognized them from their school days and remembered using them a time or two. However, all of the packaging had been redone, and everything about their arrangement on the shelves looked fantastic. Then he pointed to a newer product, only in stores for a year. It didn’t have nearly the panache as the Snackboxes.  </p>
<p>“The Snackboxes.” She picked up a package and read the contents: twelve puking pastilles plus twelve antidotes, and a vial of anti-nausea potion, just in case. “I’m fairly certain I used these a few times to skive off Transfiguration.”</p>
<p>Ron chuckled. “They’re selling like wild right now, which is uncommon for an old standby like these. George gave me permission to redesign everything, from the packaging to the wording to the display. He’s letting me do more and more of it, and for some reason, I’m actually good at it.”</p>
<p>Pansy surveyed the room with a more critical eye, and she thought she could spot a few other products that looked as attractive as the Snackboxes. “It’s really well done.”</p>
<p>“Thanks!” He smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets, then rocked back on his heels. “I’m thinking he might eventually let me have control over that entire aspect of the business. He’d rather be on the research and development side of things anyway, and it would give him more time for that.”</p>
<p>Pansy found herself inclined to return his smile, then froze, her breath nearly driven from her lungs in surprise. It hit her then, suddenly and with tremendous force, that she felt more comfortable with him than just about anyone in her life—the exceptions being Draco and Granger, mainly, and possibly Daphne. Though she was never completely sure the witch would be loyal if the right offer came along. Sometimes it was exhausting never trusting anyone.</p>
<p>The realization was startling because Pansy wasn’t used to letting her guard down, and she’d done it unconsciously. Her heart started pounding, and she was afraid she’d be sick right there in the shop. The door was only a few feet away, and she edged toward it. </p>
<p>“Listen, um, Weasley, thank you.” Ron’s eyes were surprised as he watched her slink toward the exit. “I should be going. It’s late, and, I… need to sleep. So, thank you, again, for everything.” </p>
<p>Pansy retreated through the door, watching it close behind her. She stepped away, as though she would walk down the sidewalk, before remembering that it was still raining. Then she felt ridiculous, but when she peeked back inside, Ron was still watching her, wearing a bemused expression. Pansy quickly smiled awkwardly, then waved and Disapparated.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. - two -</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center"><p>
    <i>This is your favorite kind of day<br/>
It has no walls, the beauty of the rain<br/>
Is how it falls, how it falls, how it falls </i>
  </p>
<hr/><p>2. </p></div><p>Ron watched with a bemused smile as Pansy started, stopped, and then Disapparated. He shook his head, chuckling to himself as he went to clear away the tea things. He popped a biscuit into his mouth then froze mid-chew as his gaze fell on the bag he’d given her to hold the remains of her dress. He slowly finished, staring at the bag and wondering what he should do with it.</p><p>On the one hand, she hadn’t seemed to care too much for the thing, but she’d also said she always mailed them to her mother. Ron left the bag beside the chair where Pansy had sat, shaking his head in disbelief as he carried the tea tray back up to his flat. It was utterly bizarre that Pansy Parkinson had been there not five minutes ago. He ate another biscuit and debated going to the Leaky. He was supposed to have met someone there, a witch Ginny was trying to set him up with, but he was sure she’d be long gone by now. </p><p>The shock of exiting the shop and finding someone walking in the rain—as though she had <i>wanted</i> to be there—had driven all thoughts of his blind date from his mind. Then when he’d tried to offer assistance, her rebuff had been shocking. When he’d seen how cold she appeared, he did what any decent person would do and offered her somewhere warm and dry. At that point, he’d been mildly surprised to learn that the identity of the drenched woman was Pansy. </p><p>A glance at his watch confirmed the time; forty-five minutes late wouldn’t do. Ron quickly penned an apology to Ginny for carelessly standing up her friend, and he would have sent it then, but he cared about his owl too much to ask her to fly out in the rain. </p><p>He sat at his small desk, absently tapping the end of his quill on his leg. What should he do with Pansy’s bag? He didn’t know anything about her—where she lived, where she worked, <i>nothing</i>—and he hadn’t the slightest clue how to find out. </p><p>No, wait. That wasn’t quite true. Hermione was married to Malfoy, and he would surely know. </p><p>Ron quickly went to his fireplace and tossed in some Floo powder. “Hermione’s flat!” he called, sticking his head into the green flames. After a minute or so, his least favorite resident answered the call. </p><p>“Weasley.” It was the only greeting he had ever—and likely <i>would</i> ever—get from Draco Malfoy. At least it was no longer said with a sneer. </p><p>“Malfoy. Is Hermione available?” It was stupid, really, to ask to speak to Hermione when he needed information from the man before him, but that’s how their relationship worked. They spoke as little as humanly possible.</p><p>“Not at the moment. Care to leave a message?” Malfoy reached for a slip of parchment.</p><p>Ron scratched his head, not pleased with how this was going. “Er, well, actually, it’s possible you can help me.” He took a deep breath and forced his question out as quickly as possible. “Do you happen to know where Pansy works?”</p><p>“I’m sorry.” Draco blinked slowly, staring at Ron. “I thought I heard you ask me something about <i>Pansy</i>.”</p><p>“Yes, Malfoy. Pansy.” Ron rolled his eyes. “Do you know where she works? Or where she lives? Or…”</p><p>“Why, exactly, do you want to know?” Draco leaned forward as though to try and discern Ron’s motives through the fire. “Further, why should I tell you?”</p><p>“Stop being an arse, Malfoy. I helped her out a bit tonight, and she left something at the shop. I’d like to return it to her.” There were certainly times when their antagonistic relationship made things harder.</p><p>“Helped her? How could you possibly—” He held up his hand. “Never mind. I don’t have time for this. She works at Sorcière.”</p><p>Ron waited for him to continue, but it quickly became obvious Malfoy had no intention of providing anything else. “What’s that?”</p><p>“Merlin, Weasley. It’s only the wizarding world’s most premiere fashion magazine.” Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. “Their office is in Chelsea. Corner of Mallord and Old Church Street. Is there anything else?” </p><p>Ron grinned. If nothing else, the opportunity to annoy Draco was enough to make his evening. “Nope, that’s all I need. Thanks, Malfoy! Say hey to Hermione and give Lyra a hug for me!”</p><p>Ron disconnected the Floo and brushed off his trousers. He’d take an early lunch the next day in the hopes of catching her at work. He went back down to the shop and finished closing everything down. Finally, he went to the brown paper bag that held Pansy’s discarded garment. He sat in her chair and reached in, curious how the expensive silk would feel between his fingers. It was wet, so he imagined it wasn’t the best example, but it didn’t feel all that special to him. When he stood up, he caught a scent in the air that he didn’t recognize. It was light and fresh, and he realized it must be lingering remnants of Pansy’s perfume.</p><p>Frowning, he cast a stasis charm on the bag so that nothing would be different when he returned it to her. Then, he had the longest internal debate over what to do with the bag. Should he leave it in the office? Take it to his flat? Probably should do the latter; there was no telling what George would think if he found it in the office. </p><p>Ron rolled his eyes at himself. It was just a dress in a bag; it wasn’t going to burst into flames in the middle of the night or anything. Without another thought, he grabbed the bag, took it upstairs, and left it on his dresser. Something about the evening had him feeling… off. He decided to go to the Leaky after all</p><p>He dried his shirt and threw on a jacket. The umbrella he’d used earlier was still by the door, but he cast a spell to keep himself dry anyway. The heavier the rainfall, the less effective the spell. Once outside, he hurried to his destination, wondering if he’d see anyone he knew. Most of them were probably busy, as he was supposed to have been as well. It was just as well that he didn’t recognize any faces in the pub; he had a feeling he’d spend a drink or two thinking about what had derailed his evening.</p><p>Pansy Parkinson. </p><p>He hadn’t seen her since she’d marched out of the Great Hall with the other Slytherins. Despite Hermione marrying Malfoy, they’d kept their friend groups separate for the most part, and when they did mingle, he couldn’t recall Pansy ever being present. She must have been around for something in the past three years, but he couldn’t place her. For whatever reason, she hadn’t made an impression.</p><p>That had changed tonight. He wondered at it, the whirlwind that was Pansy Parkinson, how it had left him feeling shifted. That was the best word he could think of to describe it. And the bag she’d left meant that he’d see her again, and there had been something about her that made him not entirely upset about it. But he also dreaded it to his very core.</p>
<hr/><p>Ron took his lunch break at eleven the next day. As it was a Friday, there was an extra bounce to his step. Even though he worked a half-day on Saturdays, it was the start to his weekend. Pansy’s bag was tucked under his arm as he made his way through London. He’d never been more thankful for Hermione’s mandatory Muggle Education sessions the summer after she’d finished Hogwarts. He could successfully navigate the tube, handle Muggle money, read a map, and even call a cab if he needed one. </p><p>The three-story building on the corner Malfoy had told him about was an unassuming brick structure with an entrance on Mallord Street. The door was flanked by two windows, and Ron didn’t hesitate to enter. The inside, however, was quite unexpected. After walking through a small hallway, he entered a small lobby that was stark white. To his left was presumably an office with its door closed. To his left was a small glass-top desk, behind which sat a woman. <i>Sorcière</i> was written in white relief letters on the wall behind the desk. The woman was flipping through a magazine, but looked up when he entered, raising a sculpted eyebrow as she looked him up and down. </p><p>Ron cleared his throat and tried to smile as he approached her. “Um, hullo. I’m looking for Pansy. Parkinson.”</p><p>If possible, the woman’s eyebrow lifted even higher on her forehead, but she still didn’t speak.</p><p>“I was told she works here?” Ron rapped his knuckles on the desk, drawing the gaze of the woman, who stared at his hand as though it were made of stinky cheese. “Was… that a mistake?”</p><p>“Pansy works here. What do you want?” </p><p>“I need to give her something.” Ron smiled, refusing to let this severely displeased woman get under his skin. </p><p>She pursed her lips. “Wait right here.”</p><p>Ron nodded and took a seat as the woman left the lobby. She pushed through a door that blended seamlessly with the wall, so much so that he never would have guessed there was a door there. He drummed his fingers on his knee. A single glance around the room was enough to determine that there was nothing of interest to look at. On a low glass table beside him, there was a single issue of <i>Sorcière</i>, and he picked it up.</p><p>The pages were glossy and artfully arrayed. Some layouts appealed to him more than others, and since he’d been working on some basic marketing things at the shop, his eye was drawn to certain pages. He wondered what Pansy did for the magazine. To his surprise, a number of the photographs did not move, and he wondered about this, wishing there was someone in the room he could ask about it. In the photographs he’d grown up with, the subjects always moved. His initial reaction to seeing still, Muggle photos was that the products for sale would be better showcased if they could be seen from all angles, but then he turned to an image that made him pause. It was of a woman in a dress with a purse slung over her shoulder. She was midstep and walking away, looking back at the camera with a sly, determined expression. There was something in her expression that made him wonder what she was looking at. </p><p>“What are you doing here?”</p><p>Ron jumped, spilling the magazine onto the floor. He scrambled to pick it up and return it to the table, then he stood to face her. Pansy had entered the lobby without a sound and was peering at him skeptically. Seeing her in the bright natural light of the lobby, in her work clothes instead of his loungewear, made him swallow hard. She wore a dark gray pencil skirt that flared just past the knees, a dark purple silk blouse, and black heels that he refused to believe could be comfortable. Her wavy black hair was pinned up, a few loose tendrils framing her face. He hadn’t noticed the night before how beautiful she was. </p><p>He cleared his throat and held the bag out to her. “You left this last night.”</p><p>Pansy’s expression flickered with surprise. “Oh. Um, right. Thank you.” She accepted the bag and glanced in with a grimace. “I’d completely forgotten about this.”</p><p>“I wasn’t sure if I should bother. But better safe than sorry, yeah?”</p><p>She set the bag on the desk and looked at him thoughtfully. “How did you find me here?”</p><p>“Malfoy. I asked him last night and I must have caught him at a good moment because he didn’t argue with me before telling me.” He grinned. </p><p>“Of course.” She frowned slightly, glancing at the bag.</p><p>“So what do you do here?” he asked, genuinely curious. It had taken only a brief glimpse inside the magazine to realize it was nothing like <i>Witch Weekly</i>, which was sadly his only reference for any kind of regular publication other than the <i>Prophet</i> or the <i>Quibbler</i>. He’d never had any reason to know more.</p><p>“I’m a Fashion Assistant. I do a lot of things, really, though I’m still pretty low on the ladder. I work with photographers and companies to make sure everyone is happy with the final result. I sometimes write short articles or assist with photo shoots.” He could tell she’d wanted to say more but stopped herself.</p><p>Ron grabbed the copy he’d been looking at and opened to the photo that had caught his attention. “Were you involved with this one?”</p><p>Pansy stepped closer to get a good look at the page, and he caught a faint whiff of the same scent he’d smelled in the shop. “Yes. I did. Why?”</p><p>“It’s a Muggle photo, right? I saw a number of them in here.” </p><p>“Our Editor-in-Chief believes there is a place for both in our publication. It’s part of what sets us apart. Some of our most popular shoots have been in the Muggle style. The photo you showed me, for example. It spoke to you?”</p><p>He grinned sheepishly and rubbed his arm, a nervous habit. “Something like that.”</p><p>She nodded in satisfaction. “Good. There’s something about capturing that perfect moment with a Muggle camera that’s missed with a wizarding one. It’s almost…”</p><p>“Magic?” he supplied with a crooked grin. </p><p>Pansy blinked rapidly and looked away, her gaze drawn back to the page. Then she glanced at her watch. “Thank you again, Weasley. I really appreciate this. Let me thank you somehow. Have you eaten?”</p><p>“Yeah, I ate before I came here. I’m probably due back any minute now. And it was really no trouble. Not much, anyway. Coming here was… instructive.” He lightly pressed the page with his fist, his eyes drawn again to the woman looking over her shoulder. Then he stepped back and gave her a wave. “I’ll see you around, Pansy.”</p><p>“Good bye, Weasley.”</p><p>He’d already stepped out of sight, but he stuck his head back into the room. “My name’s Ron, you know. You can call me that if you want.”</p><p>“I’m not sure I can,” she countered, joining him in the small hallway by the door. “I can’t call Draco’s wife by her given name, she’ll always be Granger to me. The same might be true for you.”</p><p>Ron shrugged. “Suit yourself. <i>Pansy</i>.” </p><p>He grinned and left the building, closing the door behind him. Since his lunch hour was nearly spent, he found the nearest inconspicuous place and Apparated back to Diagon Alley. He hurried toward Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, but paused at a newsstand he’d probably passed hundreds of times before without noticing. Pansy’s magazine was on display, and he bought one, thankful it was the same issue he’d seen in her office. Tucking it under her arm, he hurried into the shop.</p><p>A bell jingled when he entered, and George looked up with a slightly anxious expression. “Have a good lunch?”</p><p>“Sure. Just ate something quick at the Leaky. I had an errand to run in Chelsea.” Ron went into the office and set the magazine on the stairs leading to his flat, then rejoined his brother. </p><p>George was waiting for him, his arms crossed over his chest and a serious look on his face. “What errand?”</p><p>“It’s kind of a long story?” Ron said evasively. “I had to return something to someone.”</p><p>“So you weren’t meeting with Sarah Amberton from Amberton &amp; Associates Marketing Firm?” George asked almost accusingly. </p><p>Ron grabbed a bottle of Butterbeer and opened it. “Who?”</p><p>“Sarah Amberton. She’s been asking about who designed the new signage. I told her it was you before I had the good sense to ask her why she wanted to know.” George was interrupted by a customer and cheerily pointed him in the right direction. “Looks like what you’ve done here has caught the eye of some people who know what they’re talking about. They think you do good work.”</p><p>Ron was taken aback. “Me? What do I do?”</p><p>“Your layouts. Your new designs. I think she wants to steal you away, offer you some lucrative salary, probably to sell shampoo or owl food or some shit.” It was obvious that George wasn’t thrilled with this idea, which was something new for Ron.</p><p>“How could they possibly steal me from you, brother dear?” Ron asked with the same tone George and Fred had used so many times on him when they were younger. “You treat me so well. I’m your favorite employee.”</p><p>George rolled his eyes. “You know as well as I do that Merle is my favorite employee.” Merle was a cat who kept the mice under control. George paid him in treats and let him live behind the counter during the day. “So you weren’t meeting with her?”</p><p>“Nope.” Ron opened a bag of crisps and popped one in his mouth. “But I’ll be expecting to hear from her.”</p><p>“Listen. Ron.” George leaned against the counter. “Everything you’ve updated in this store has started selling better. You’ve got an instinct for this somehow. I don’t want to lose you.”</p><p>Ron shoved a handful of his snack into his mouth, then patted his brother’s shoulder with his messy hand. “Aw, gee, George. That’s about the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. But, you know, the rent on that flat isn’t going to pay itself, now is it? If there’s really a lucrative salary involved, I’d be an idiot not to at least listen, right?”</p><p>“But we’re a team!” George countered. “I make great products, you make them look great. Together, we sell lots and lots of products, and we both do well.”</p><p>“That’s true.” Ron nodded, tossing back another swallow of his beverage. “And I don’t expect to ever have an actual share in this business, which is okay with me. I understand. This was built by you and Fred, and I respect your wishes, but I’m just an employee here, brother though I may be. I’ve got to think of my own future. I don’t want to live in a flat over this shop for the rest of my life.”</p><p>George appeared to be seriously considering Ron’s words, but he didn’t say anything more on it. “Speaking of living in the flat and never getting laid, Ginny stopped by with this.” He handed Ron a letter. </p><p>Ron licked his fingers, wiped them on his jeans, and opened it. Ginny was upset that he’d stood up her friend the night before but offered to let him make it up to her by trying again that night. After considering a moment, Ron hastily wrote to decline the offer. He had plans with Harry, and for some reason, the idea was even less appealing than it had been in the first place. </p><p>“So, would you then?” George asked, intent on wiping something off the counter. </p><p>“Would I what?” Ron sealed the letter and sent it with an owl. There were always plenty of owls to be found, as the shop received and shipped orders regularly. </p><p>“Meet with her. That woman. With the marketing firm.” </p><p>Ron shrugged. “Probably. No harm in it, yeah? I’m fairly certain you don’t really want me here forever.” </p><p>George looked at him sharply. “What makes you say that?”</p><p>“Oh, come on. We both know I’m not your first choice. Or your second. Or third. I might come in before Percy, but only just. Especially now that he’s mellowed and isn’t such a ponce.” Ron grinned. He was mostly joking, but also rather serious. After going through Auror training, Ron had realized that it wasn’t really for him. He’d followed Harry for so long that it was an automatic thing to follow him to the Auror Academy, but while Harry was a natural and excelled easily, Ron had struggled and found no joy in it. It had been a hard blow when he realized that he was only there because of Harry, not for himself. Then George had found himself struggling with the success of the shop, a continued sense of loss over Fred, and a crippling case of mistrust, leading him to take on too much without asking for or accepting help. </p><p>Their mother had intervened, sending George on something of a holiday, and Ron had stepped in to cover George’s absence. He’d done well enough that George had let him stay on, and they’d fallen into a tentative cooperation. Ron had always felt like a placeholder, as though George were still waiting for Fred to walk through the door. </p><p>George gave him a strange look. “You really think that’s true?”</p><p>Ron paused in his efforts to dig the last few crumbs out the bag. “Isn’t it?”</p><p>In reply, George threw the towel he’d been using to over-zealously scrub the counter at him.</p><p>“Hey!” Ron shielded his face, though there was no need as the towel unwadded mid-flight and fluttered harmlessly to the floor. </p><p>George stalked past him and headed onto the floor. Ron watched him go, not at all sure what had just happened. Then he started straightening some of the smaller displays sprinkled on the counter. He finished that task and was about to turn to his latest redesign project when George returned, a determined look on his face.</p><p>“Listen, Ron. I’m only going to say this once, so listen up.” His eyes were intense, containing more emotion than Ron had seen from George in a very long time. “Every single day I’m bloody thankful you’re here. If it weren’t for you…” He shook his head. “I get that this isn’t what you always imagined doing, so if you want to look somewhere else for a job, then so be it. But I’m not going to let you go without a fight. Are we clear?”</p><p>Ron was so surprised he could only nod. George clapped him on the shoulder and walked away. Five seconds later, orange smoke started pouring off Ron’s shirt where George had touched him. Ron chuckled and shook his head.</p>
<hr/><p>Four days later, Ron found that his mind drifted to Pansy more often than he liked to admit. She’d burst into his life, been interesting and adorable in his t-shirt, then disappeared as quickly as she’d come. But he’d been left with so many questions that it was impossible for him not to wonder about her. </p><p>She’d started to open up a bit, then realized what she was doing and stopped. He couldn’t quite imagine what her mother had done to upset her so much that she’d intentionally ruined multiple garments out of spite. But the Pansy he remembered had <i>always</i> been a spitfire, with a sharp wit and a razor tongue. He wondered what she was up to. </p><p>The flow of customers was steady, and Ron spent a great deal of time running around the shop, answering questions and giving demonstrations. It was one of his favorite parts of the job, and these kinds of days flew by. </p><p>George sent him into the stock room, and when he came back, his brother had a very strange look on his face. “Er, someone to see you, Ron.”</p><p>Assuming it was another customer with a question, Ron handed the boxes he’d been sent for and rubbed his hands together. “Right. Show me where.”</p><p>“At the front counter.” </p><p>By the way George was acting, Ron started to suspect that this someone was the woman George had mentioned Friday. He steeled himself for whatever might come, regretting slightly that he’d worn denims, a t-shirt, and a sport coat that day. He’d have liked to be dressed a bit more professionally, if someone were coming to discuss a job, but it couldn’t be helped now.  </p><p>When Ron neared the counter, he did see a woman. Her back was to him, and she wore a royal blue knee-length dress that flared slightly at the waist. Her dark hair was piled atop her head and he saw diamond-studded pins holding it in place. </p><p>He cleared his throat. “Hello, my brother said—Pansy?”</p><p>She’d turned around as soon as he’d started talking. “Weasley. <i>Ron</i>, I mean.” She stepped up to the counter and placed a bag in front of him. “It’s my turn to bring you something.”</p><p>Ron hesitantly dragged the bag closer so he could see what she’d brought. The clothes he’d lent her a few nights before were folded neatly inside. “Oh. Right. Um, thanks.”</p><p>Pansy looked decidedly out of place in the joke shop. She was impeccably dressed and had an air about her that screamed <i>important</i>. Whereas all around her, products occasionally went off, some of them popping, exploding, tweeting, roaring, barking, and even screaming. There were bright, flashing lights, colorful smoke, and even the occasional burst of music. However, as she slowly spun, taking in the store, she didn’t seem put off by anything, merely amused. “It’s so different than when I was last here.”</p><p>Ron rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah. It can get pretty loud and wild.”</p><p>“You caused quite a stir, coming to my work last week.” Pansy made as though to peruse the nearest display of ton-tongue toffees. </p><p>“Did I? It wasn’t intentional.”</p><p>She peered at him. “No. Of course not. I hope you’ll forgive Virginia. She was at the desk when you arrived. Unfortunately, women who work at a high fashion magazine tend to be prodigious snobs. She took one look at you and couldn’t believe I might know you.” Pansy rolled her eyes. “She’s since repented a hundred times. Everyone wanted to know what your visit was about, what it meant, since you don’t look like someone I might interact with. And the manner in which you came? Bringing me a torn dress? It was <i>scandalous</i>.” </p><p>“I hope I didn’t make trouble for you.” He felt himself turning red.</p><p>Pansy laughed lightly. “Oh, not at all. One minute they were disparaging everything about you—your hair, your clothes, your obvious lack of awareness that you were in the presence of these mighty bastions of wizarding fashion—and the next, after I’d told them who you were, they were falling all over themselves asking me how I knew you.”</p><p>Ron grimaced. “Oh.”</p><p>“Don’t worry. I only did it to shut them up. It was ridiculous. As if I couldn’t be friends with you.”</p><p>“We’re not, though, really.”</p><p>Pansy shrugged. “They didn’t need to know that. Anyway, it made the day a bit more interesting.”</p><p>“Oye. Ron.” George hefted a large crate onto the counter. “Shipment just arrived. Need you in the back.”</p><p>Ron gave Pansy an apologetic smile, then stowed his clothes out of sight. “Thanks for bringing this. See you around.”</p><p>She pursed her lips, then gave a curt nod. “Right. Later, Weasley.”</p><p>He chuckled as he followed George into the back room. When they got there, however, there was no shipment, and the crate George had carried out he replaced on the shelf. “What’s going on?”</p><p>George looked angry. “That was Pansy Parkinson, wasn’t it?”</p><p>“Er, yes. Why?” Ron had no clue why his brother was so upset. </p><p>“What’s going on with you two? Are you seeing her?”</p><p>“What? No! I’m not seeing her. I <i>have</i> seen her, recently, but it’s nothing.” He gave George an incredulous look. “What’s the big deal anyway? So what if I was?”</p><p>George’s eyes got wide, then narrowed. Ron hadn’t seen his brother angry on many occasions. George was too laid back, and it took a lot to upset him. His good sense of humor allowed him to see offences from many different sides, and he was never one to hold onto a grudge or anger easily. But now, George was angry. </p><p>“What’s the big deal? Only that she wanted to turn Harry in, Ron. Remember that? Harry, you know, your best mate? She cared more for her own skin than what was right in that war. I know you remember the war, Fred died in that war!” By the end of his rant, George was shouting. </p><p>Ron had completely forgotten about Pansy’s outburst in the Great Hall that night, following Harry’s lead of leaving the past in the past, not holding any grudges after the war. He also knew that George was extra sensitive about everything that had happened the night Fred died, and some parts of that evening were seared in his memory. Ron never would have thought that Pansy’s outburst would have been one of them, but something about it must have stuck with George. There was also no point in trying to reason with him right now. George needed to calm down and grieve Fred afresh before they could have any kind of productive conversation.</p><p>George knew this, and without waiting for a response, left the shop out the back door, slamming it closed behind him. Ron didn’t expect to see him again that day, so he sent a message to Harry letting him know he wouldn’t be able to make it to dinner after all.</p>
<hr/><p>“Everything okay?” Harry asked as Ron sat down at the table.</p><p>“Sure, everything’s fine.” Ron gave his friend a confused look, then opened the menu. He promptly shut it again as he knew what he wanted. It was Friday, and the week had been a busy one. Ron was thankful for an evening out with friends. “Why?”</p><p>Harry peered at him. “Ginny sent me a letter. She mentioned something about you, Pansy, and George?”</p><p>Ron snorted. “George is overreacting.”</p><p>“What about Pansy?” Hermione asked, sliding into the booth beside Harry. “Sorry I’m a bit late. My mother was going to watch Lyra, but my parents had a dental emergency, so Draco agreed to stay home with her. He sends his regrets, of course.”</p><p>Harry grinned. “Sure, sure. He just doesn’t want to show his face so soon after losing the bet Tuesday.”</p><p>“Oh? What did I miss?” Ron looked between his two friends. </p><p>“Nothing much,” Hermione finally replied. “Just a friendly wager over a game of darts. You know how Draco and Harry can be. A constant game of one-upmanship. It’s like they’re still in school, comparing the size of their—” Harry coughed loudly and Hermione gave him a pointed look. “Brooms. Honestly, Harry. But don’t change the subject, Ron. What’s going on with Pansy?”</p><p>“There’s nothing going on with Pansy,” he insisted. He then proceeded to tell his best friends the details of everything that had happened the week before, from seeing Pansy in the rain, to taking her dress to her, to Pansy returning his clothes a few days earlier. </p><p>Harry nodded along as Ron described George getting angry about seeing Pansy in the shop. “George told Ginny, who wrote to me because she’s the only person who knows the truth besides me.”</p><p>“What truth?” Hermione asked.</p><p>“About Pansy.” Harry gave Ron a significant look. “Shortly after the war, during all the mess with the trials, she came to apologize for what she’d said about turning me in. Said she’d been so terrified she hadn’t been thinking clearly. She said her family hadn’t wanted to be involved, none of her family were Death Eaters, she’d just wanted her life to go on like normal. Turning me in would have done that, she thought. She said she realized quickly that a life with Voldemort as the supreme leader wouldn’t be good, even though her family was very much in favor of some of his policies with respect to pureblood supremacy. She was very matter-of-fact about it. I accepted her apology, and she asked me not to breathe a word of it but Ginny happened to overhear most of it.”</p><p>Ron nodded thoughtfully. “All right then. Good to know, I suppose. You should tell George, though. He needs to hear it more than I do.”</p><p>“I was curious why she didn’t show up at my place that night,” Hermione said. “She usually comes to my place, changes her clothes, then leaves. Every time I ask if she wants to talk, and I wonder why she doesn’t just go home to change, but she seems fine by the time she leaves. I’m sure she’s not fine. Sometimes she talks to Draco. He can relate to what she’s going through far better than I can.”</p><p>“She didn’t say much to me about it.” Ron scraped at the label on his bottle.  </p><p>“She keeps things very close,” Hermione continued. “Though, about a year ago, she started talking to me, as well. Not about why she comes over in a ruined dress. At first, I thought she’d been attacked because of how torn it was, but she assured me that wasn’t it.” </p><p>Harry pointed a finger at Ron. “Ginny said she couldn’t begin to say if you and Pansy would be a good idea, but she’s open to it.”</p><p>“I like the idea.” Hermione bit her lip. </p><p>“But?” Ron prodded. </p><p>“I think it would be complicated. And trust me, I <i>know</i> complicated.” Hermione gave him what he knew was supposed to be a supportive smile. “But I completely support you if you want to give it a go with her. I like Pansy, though she doesn’t make herself likeable. I think it’s a defense mechanism.”</p><p>Ron rolled his eyes and took a drink. “Fascinating. Harry? I’m on the edge of my seat waiting for your opinion on the matter.”</p><p>Harry appeared to deeply consider the idea. “Well, after giving it a lot of thought, in the last thirty seconds, I’d have to say I’m with Ginny. I need more information before I can really weigh in. But, if Hermione can marry Draco Malfoy, then why not? I’m not sure George will be so easily swayed, however. He’ll never be friends with Malfoy, and Hermione’s not quite family, but I think he just pretends that never happened.”</p><p>“I hate to disappoint you all, but this conversation is extremely irrelevant.”</p><p>“Oh?” Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Why do you say that?”</p><p>“Because there’s nothing going on. We had one interaction about a week ago, with two much shorter, follow-up ones, and we have no plans for any more. I don’t know why you’re all talking about this like there’s something to talk about.” </p><p>Hermione tilted her head to one side and peered at him. “I think it’s because of the glimmer in your eyes when you talk about Pansy.”</p><p>Ron’s eyes went wide. “There’s no glimmer.”</p><p>“Oh, there’s a glimmer.” Harry grinned, folding his arms and resting them on the table. “You’ve thought about her, haven’t you?”</p><p>“So what if I have?” Ron scowled. “Doesn’t mean shite. Hermione, have you ever been to her work? No? Then let me go ahead and tell you two something. There is no possible way that Pansy would be interested in me. None.”</p><p>Hermione frowned. “Why do you say that? What does her workplace have to do with anything?”</p><p>Ron turned to Harry. “Pansy works at a high-end fashion magazine. I’ve gathered that it’s one of the best in the whole world. I’ve looked through every page of their latest edition, and everything Pansy works with during the day, from makeup—” Ron started counting things off on his fingers. “To shoes. To clothes. To jewelry. <i>Everything</i>. It’s the best of the best. She’s surrounded by the finest things in the world, all day every day, and you think there’s a chance she’d look twice at me?” He polished off his drink. “I won’t keep you in suspense: she wouldn’t.”</p><p>“You don’t know that.” Hermione put a hand on his arm. “I’d never have guessed Draco would think about me in any kind of positive, much less a romantic light, but here we are.”</p><p>“Malfoy is…” Ron scrunched up his nose. “He’s a decent bloke. Made a real effort.”</p><p>“And you don’t think Pansy would?” Harry concluded. </p><p>“I don’t think I’ve got anything to offer her.” Ron motioned for another beer. “So, yeah, I guess I’ve thought about it a little. It took me about as long as I spent thumbing through that magazine of hers. Is she beautiful? Absolutely. Was this some fun twist of fate? No. Not every interaction means something. Now, are we ready to order? <i>I’m starving</i>.”</p>
<hr/><p>Another two weeks passed and Ron had all but put Pansy out of mind. He’d patched things over with George by insisting that it had been a one-time thing and that maybe he should talk to Harry because Pansy wasn’t as awful as he believed. Sarah Amberton from Amberton &amp; Associates Marketing Firm had finally connected with him, and they’d scheduled a meeting for the following week. George hadn’t been thrilled and actually said, out loud, that he didn’t want Ron to leave. <i>That</i> had made Ron’s day. </p><p>There had been evenings at the pub, Quidditch games, and Sunday dinners at The Burrow, and still, Ron didn’t think about Pansy. </p><p>Except when it rained. </p><p>On those days, he looked out the shop windows far more frequently than on dry days, and if it was raining in the evening, he’d find somewhere to go in Diagon Alley where he could watch the whole street. She’d mentioned having ruined many dresses, and so he kept a curious, mostly hopeless vigil. The chances that she’d return to Diagon Alley were slim; there were other parts of England that got more rain than London, and if she needed to ruin a dress, she could go there. </p><p>But then, it did rain Saturday night, a little over three weeks since Ron had discovered Pansy the first time. He’d almost decided to Conjure a chair and sit under the awning of the shop, but changed his mind. That was silly. He’d go to the Leaky for a pint and a snack, then see if Harry was free to watch a film. </p><p>Ron grabbed his umbrella and took five steps toward the Leaky Cauldron, then shivered. It was a cold September rain. He hurried back inside for a jacket, then haphazardly thrust his arms through the arm holes. Something was twisted, however, and he stopped just under the awning to fix it. Finally, he was ready, so he opened the umbrella again and started off, only to run into someone at the first corner he came to. </p><p>He dropped the umbrella in his haste to prevent the other person from falling. “I’m so sorry!” he cried over the sound of the rain.</p><p>“Weasley?”</p><p>He blinked, finally looking at who he’d run into. “Pansy?”</p><p>She laughed. “Of course.”</p><p>Ron stood there with a wide grin for a moment, before he felt the cold begin to seep into him. Then he picked up the umbrella and held it over his head. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” It was the first thing that came into his head and he regretted the words even as he spoke them. </p><p>Pansy gave him a condescending look but she was smiling. “That was ridiculous, Ron Weasley. Don’t be ridiculous.”</p><p>He took this to mean he shouldn’t even bother pretending to try to impress her. “What are you doing out in the rain tonight?” </p><p>She gave him a more genuine smile then and took a step back so she could spin in the rain. “Ruining another of my mother’s favorite robes, of course. I chose the emerald green with the fitted, ruched bodice and flared skirt. What do you think of it?” She smoothed the dress down, and as she did so, pieces fell off in her hands. With a laugh, she tossed them in the air.</p><p>“It’s rather hard to tell, since it’s just hanging limply like a clump of soggy lettuce.”</p><p>Pansy grabbed his arm, threw back her head and laughed again, this time all the way from her heart. “I almost regret having to tear this one up. I want to always remember what you called it. Soggy lettuce.” She eyed him curiously. “What are <i>you</i> doing tonight in this rain?”</p><p>“Well, I didn’t mean to be in the rain. I was headed to get a drink. Do you want to join me?” It felt like a perfectly natural thing to ask, even though it was really anything but. For one thing, his heart was hammering in his chest. He’d never had an easy time asking women out. In his head, he repeatedly told himself that he <i>wasn’t</i> asking her out. </p><p>Her eyes sparkled. “I’m afraid I’ll have to decline as all I have to wear is soggy lettuce. The longer I stand out here, the easier it will tear. It’s something to do with the Charm in the silk. And you’re not exactly dry yourself, you know.” She pointed to his jacket, which was made of a lightweight and not at all water resistant material. Still, it was thick enough that his shirt hadn’t gotten wet. </p><p>Ron sighed, his heart beginning to slow and an odd disappointment creeping over him. He hadn’t expected her to say yes, hadn’t meant to invite her along anyway. It had just happened, but he had been more hopeful than he’d realized. </p><p>“I’m good enough for the Leaky.” </p><p>The look she gave him was something he couldn’t decipher, but she didn’t give him long to try before snatching the umbrella out of his hand. </p><p>“Hey!” he cried, trying to grab it from her. </p><p>Pansy deftly closed the umbrella and hid it behind her back. “Oh, I think this is much better.”</p><p>He’d been decently wet from the initial moment when he’d dropped the umbrella, and now the relentless rain was beginning to drop from his hair and soak through his jacket. He smiled and half-heartedly tried to reach around her to grab it back. “Come on, Pansy. Let me have it.”</p><p>“Mm, I think not. Let’s see about getting you as wet as I am, shall we?” Then she took off running down the street. </p><p>Ron gaped after her, astonished to see that she was running in heels. Well, he wouldn’t quite call it running; not like running away from Snatchers or running after Charlie, who used to like to take Ron’s favorite Cannons shirt and keep it away from him. He started jogging after her, weakly calling for her to give back his umbrella.</p><p>She was laughing so hard and enjoying herself so much that Ron couldn’t be upset. After running from one side of the street to the other and back a few times, Pansy ended up under the awning of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, her breath coming in ragged spurts.</p><p>Ron joined her and leaned against the wall, his own breath short. “Are you mad?”</p><p>Pansy tilted her head back and chuckled. “Maybe. But only a little. Here’s your umbrella.” </p><p>He accepted it and shook it to get some of the water off, then set it down and pulled his jacket off. It was completely soaked through; his shirt was damp and clinging to him. “Lovely.” With a quick spell, he dried himself and his jacket and was about to cast the same spell on Pansy when he remembered something she’d said the last time. “I’m guessing that’s the family silk?”</p><p>“Mmhmm. But it’s okay, I’m fine.” </p><p>She smiled bravely, but he could tell she was lying. Maybe it was the way her lip trembled because she was trying so hard not to let him see her teeth chattering. Ron rolled his eyes, cast a warming charm on his jacket, and put it around her shoulders. Her eyes went wide, but then she seemed to melt into the warmth, pulling it around her and holding it close. “Thanks.”</p><p>He nodded and leaned against the brick wall facing her. “Let me guess.” He flapped his hand in the direction of the destroyed dress. “Another tribute to your mother?”</p><p>Pansy’s smile faltered slightly but then she gave a great sigh. “She’s really expanding her approach. Tonight she invited <i>two</i> families with young, single sons to dinner. That was a first. I really don’t know where she keeps finding them. Is there some sort of weekly publication where pureblood parents advertise their single children of marrying age?”</p><p>Ron snorted. “I wouldn’t know. My mum has plenty to say on the matter, but she lets us be.”</p><p>She regarded him thoughtfully, almost like a cat appraising a mouse. “What does she say?”</p><p>“Underhanded little comments. She’ll remark about someone else getting married or engaged or having a baby. She’s got eight grandchildren already, between Bill, Charlie, and Percy. Shouldn’t that be enough for a while?” He shook his head, remembering the last time she’d turned her eye on him just the week before. “She never says anything to George. He gets a pass on everything. So, Ginny and I get the brunt of her meddling. I don’t think Ginny will ever settle down. Or if she does, it’ll be in the most unconventional way imaginable. She’ll just show up married one day and Mum will lose her shite.”</p><p>“Hm. At least she’s not actively bringing potential mates over and forcing the issue.”</p><p>Ron chuckled. “She does, in her own way. She’ll have Dad invite someone from work—usually for Ginny—or she’ll have someone over for tea that she just happened to bump into that day in Diagon. But she means well.”</p><p>Pansy scowled. “She wants what’s best for you, you mean? She isn’t just interested in marrying you off to the bloke with the largest vault possible?”</p><p>“I’m sorry, Pansy.” Ron watched her as she stared out at the rain still falling hard. She seemed so different now than when he’d spoken with her in the lobby of Sorcière. Different shades of the same woman, to be sure, but he was curious as to which version of Pansy was the truest. Or perhaps they were all true; maybe she didn’t like to pretend, like so many people Ron knew. </p><p>After a moment, she gave him a sideways look. “I’d better be going. I’ve got to get to Granger’s before I’m so dry that I don’t drip on her kitchen floor.” She swept his jacket off and held it out to him. “Thanks for this. See you around, Weasley.” With that, she ran out into the rain.</p><p>“It’s Ron!” he shouted after her. </p><p>Pansy just laughed, twirled in the rain with her arms outstretched, then Disapparated. </p><p>Ron chuckled to himself at the thought of a dripping wet Pansy arriving in Hermione’s home. He stayed outside and closed his eyes, listening to the steady white noise of the rain. </p><p>If he didn’t think about it too hard, he might be able to convince himself that he and Pansy had almost had a moment. But then he shook his head. </p><p>Laughing at himself, he put his jacket back on, opened the umbrella, and headed for the Leaky Cauldron. Instead of stopping there, though, he decided to exit into Muggle London. There was a twenty-four hour bagel shop not too far away, and he needed a walk—and a bagel—more than he needed a drink. Walking in the rain would help him remember that thinking about Pansy Parkinson in any way other than a practical stranger was futile at best, devastating at worst.</p>
<hr/>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. - three -</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center"><p>
    <i>And there's nothing wrong but there is something more<br/>
And sometimes you wonder what you love her for<br/>
She says you've known her deepest fears<br/>
'Cause she's shown you a box of stained-glass tears </i>
  </p>
<hr/><p>3.</p></div><p>The Monday after Pansy had literally run into Ron in the rain, she was determined not to think about him. She’d spent the weekend going back and forth in her head about every single second she’d spent with him, wondering if he thought she was completely mental. She wouldn’t blame him; after all, after going years without seeing each other, their primary interactions in the space of a few weeks involved her intentionally ruining clothing by running about in the rain.</p><p>She’d been so anxiously giddy after the events of that night that she’d actually spun in the street. It felt very much not like her, but at the same time, it had felt <i>incredible</i>. So freeing and open, and Ron Weasley had stood there and smiled at her. Nothing made sense. </p><p>Amaryllis had invited two young wizards and their families to dinner. It had been an unmitigated disaster, with Pansy the only one in good spirits at the end. Amaryllis had sought to draw Pansy in by suggesting the two men compete for her attention, and Pansy had jumped right into the game, playing each man against the other, and then walking away when a fight almost broke out.</p><p>It might have, for all she knew. The men’s families were angry at each other, at her, and at her parents, claiming they’d been hoodwinked and lied to about the entire affair. </p><p>Pansy did not care. </p><p>The more her mother pushed, the more Pansy would revolt. She’d always thought Holly was the brave one for leaving, but now she was beginning to think she’d been wrong. Holly had been too weak to stand and fight, instead running away and basically abandoning her life and her family. Pansy wouldn’t do that; she would go toe to toe with her mother every time until one of them died or her mother gave in. </p><p>She had no idea how it would end, but she knew she wasn’t backing down. There was nothing her family could do that would force her to marry someone she didn’t want to marry. She’d made sure to secure employment that would provide for her if her parents carried out their frequent threat of disowning her. They still sent her a stipend every month, but she didn’t touch a knut if she didn’t have to, and she’d amassed a decent savings in her vault. </p><p>Speaking of adding to her savings, Pansy shook her head, scolding herself for getting lost in thought once again. She went about her normal routine after waking at seven to get ready for the day. Dressing for her job was always a challenge; she was an assistant fashion editor for a premiere ultra-high-end wizarding fashion magazine, and she knew she needed to dress the part. While the only reason she’d gotten the job was because of her family’s connections in the silk industry, in the four years she’d been working, she had established herself as someone worth listening to. Someday, she hoped to advance, but she was content for now, assisting with photo shoots, interacting with brands, keeping track of credits needed in the magazine, and generally organizing the fashion aspect of the magazine. She was one of three Fashion Assistants, and despite the naturally competitive nature of their jobs, they managed to get along.</p><p>Once she made her selection, she dressed without allowing herself to second guess. </p><p>Breakfast was half a pumpkin muffin and a cup of coffee, hastily prepared on her way out the door. Pansy took the Floo to work, stepping out into a bright white, marble covered lobby. She greeted everyone she saw on her way to her desk. </p><p>As soon as she slid into her seat and opened her calendar, two of her friends, Tracey Davis and Parvati Patil, swooped into her cubicle with identical expressions of girlish curiosity. </p><p>Pansy raised a sculpted eyebrow. “Yes?” </p><p>“You saw him again, didn’t you?” Tracey sighed dramatically.</p><p>“Saw who?” She only said it because it was a required part of this type of conversation. She knew who Tracey was talking about, as she and Parvati hadn’t stopped pestering her about him since he’d dropped by the magazine to return the yellow dress. </p><p>Parvati rolled her eyes. “Pansy.”</p><p>“What makes you think I saw him?” She didn’t look at her friends, instead she rifled through a drawer looking for an ink bottle. </p><p>“You’re smiling <i>that</i> smile. It’s a new one, a smile we’d never seen until the day Ron Weasley sauntered into the lobby.” Parvati gave her a pointed look. “Reserved only for when you’re thinking about him or have seen him.”</p><p>“I don’t have a smile for Ron Weasley, of all people.” Pansy picked at the nib of her quill. “I happened to have had an eventful weekend, including escalating a confrontation between two suitors invited for dinner by my mother.”</p><p>Parvati and Tracey exchanged a look and Pansy smirked in triumph. They were beginning to doubt their smile theory, which was good. She’d interacted with Weasley a grand total of four times in three and a half weeks; it was hardly cause for the amount of speculation her friends engaged in. </p><p>“But did you see him?” Tracey pressed. </p><p>Pansy huffed in annoyance and sat up straight. “Not that it matters, but it just so happens that I did.”</p><p>Parvati squealed. “I knew it!”</p><p>“Pansy, just let yourself admit that there’s something going on. Maybe it’s not much, but it’s more than nothing.” Tracey crossed her arms and looked very smug. </p><p>Pansy rolled her eyes but couldn’t keep a slight smile from tugging at the corner of her lips. “Merlin. I hardly know. And that’s the best you’re going to get from me. Now.” She stood, smoothed down her skirt and grabbed a notepad and her writing instruments. “We’ve a meeting in five, or have you forgotten? It happens every day, and you know it doesn’t do to be late.”</p>
<hr/><p>Pansy’s birthday was usually her favorite day of the year. She’d take the day off work and treat herself to anything she wanted. She was required for dinner with her parents at home, but then she was free to leave and join friends for some real fun. </p><p>This year, however, Pansy’s mother had insisted on making a big deal of her birthday. It made no sense; it wasn’t a special year, as she was only turning twenty-seven, but the last thing Pansy wanted was to fight on or about her birthday. She gave her mother permission to plan a dinner out with her sisters—except Holly, she assumed—and she was genuinely looking forward to it. Pansy liked Felix very much, and she adored her nephew and niece. Iris was generally pleasant whenever Steven was around, and having her two very successfully matched daughters around always made Amaryllis a more pleasant person. </p><p>The dinner was to be held at a restaurant in Diagon Alley, and Pansy intentionally refused to let her mind wander to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. She dressed for herself, choosing a dark blue sleeveless silk dress that fit her perfectly. The skirt was flowy and flared out just below her knees. She wore simple pearl earrings and a coordinating necklace. Blue heels that had been magicked to match the dress completed her look. </p><p>Pansy smiled at herself in satisfaction, then collected a purse and her wand. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation just before she Apparated. </p><p>Diagon Alley was busy, which was to be expected for a Saturday evening. Someone squealed as soon as Pansy landed, and before she had time to breathe, her youngest sister had wrapped her in a big hug. “Hello, Iris!” Pansy laughed, truly happy to see her sister. Normally, Iris’ grating personality and her incessant need to please their mother annoyed Pansy, but tonight she was determined to enjoy herself and refused to be annoyed by her family. </p><p>“Hello, Steven,” Pansy said with a warm smile. “How are you?”</p><p>Steven smiled, dimples showing in the smile that had made dozens of witches swoon. “I’m well, Pansy, thank you. Theo sends his love.”</p><p>“Does he now?” Pansy smirked. “What’s he getting up to these days?”</p><p>Steven shrugged. “You know Theo. He, Blaise, and Marcus are always off on some adventure. Sounds like Blaise has met a woman, so Theo and Marcus are taking advantage of being in one place for longer than two days. They’re seeing the sights in… where was it, Iris?”</p><p>“Munich, I think?” his intended chimed. “Oh, but Pansy, you’ve got to hear our news before anyone. We’ve set a date! We’re getting married in March!”</p><p>Pansy smiled at her sister and then at Steven. “Congratulations. It’s about time, though. How long have you been engaged anyway?”</p><p>Iris gave Steven a look but her eyes were full of love. “Too long, you’re so right. But now it’s happening, and of course you’ll be in the wedding, won’t you, Pansy?”</p><p>“Yes, of course!” Pansy hugged her sister again. “Who’s your Maid of Honor?”</p><p>Iris’ eyes shone. “Holly. But don’t tell mother. It’s going to be such fun to see her face when I do!”</p><p>Pansy rolled her eyes. In some ways, Holly was everyone’s favorite sister, possibly only because she’d escaped the clutches of their mother. Dahlia and Iris were happily out of her scope, and they’d both admitted to Pansy how deeply they wished they could help take some of the focus off her. But as she was the only daughter within reach, Pansy got the brunt of their mother’s machinations. </p><p>Soon they were joined by Dahlia’s family, and Pansy hugged everyone. She gave especially long hugs and her brightest smiles to her niece and nephew, Darcy and James, who were twins. </p><p> “Shall we go in?” Dahlia asked, motioning toward the door. Everyone agreed and followed her as Felix held the door open. </p><p>Pansy’s mother was inside in the waiting area, and she beamed when she saw her three daughters. She gave overzealous hugs to everyone, fawning, as usual, over Dahlia and Iris. Pansy didn’t even mind for once, so happy was she to have so much of her family together to celebrate her. </p><p>Amaryllis nodded toward a room in the back. “We’ve reserved the party room. Come on, then.”</p><p>When they arrived in the room, Pansy gasped. It was decorated beautifully, with floating candles and pale pink balloons everywhere. The table was exquisitely laid, with perfect china, silver and crystal. “Oh, Mother, it’s lovely!”</p><p>“Well, only the best for you, my dear.” Amaryllis seemed especially bright and peppy. Normally, this would have raised alarms in Pansy’s mind, but she was so focused on enjoying herself that it slipped her notice.</p><p>Pansy and her sisters filed in, and when everyone was seated, Pansy noticed that there were two empty chairs. “Are we waiting on someone?” </p><p>Amaryllis dabbed her lips with her napkin; Dahlia and Iris exchanged a look. “Possibly,” her mother replied evasively. </p><p>The only person Pansy could think of who was missing was Holly, but she didn’t think her mother would ever condescend to acknowledge Holly again, much less invite her to a family dinner.</p><p>Iris, who was sitting beside Pansy, gave her hand a gentle squeeze and leaned over to whisper. “I invited her, but she never gave me a firm answer. I really hope she comes.”</p><p>“Thank you! I hope she does!” Pansy smiled warmly and then turned her attention to the menu. Just as everyone was finalizing their orders and almost ready to call for the server, the door to their private room opened and in walked Holly. Pansy squealed and jumped up, rushing around the table to throw her arms around the sister she hadn’t seen in three years. Holly hugged her fiercely, and Pansy’s eyes filled with tears. </p><p>Belatedly, Pansy realized that someone had walked in with Holly, and Pansy released her sister in order to greet who she assumed had arrived with her. She swiped at her eyes then turned and faced…</p><p>Adrian Pucey. </p><p>Pansy frowned, her gaze flitting from Adrian to Holly, then to Adrian, and back to Holly again. “Hols?”</p><p>Her sister waved at Adrian dismissively. “I don’t know him, he just followed me in. Said he was here for your birthday dinner.” Holly then went to greet the other members of their family, leaving Pansy standing beside the one person present who most definitely was not part of their family. </p><p>“Happy birthday, Pansy.” He gave her a wide, charming grin. </p><p>“Thank you, Adrian. It’s quite a surprise to see you here.”</p><p>He nodded and glanced at the table. “Your mother invited me. I sort of thought there’d be more people here.”</p><p>Pansy’s blood froze when he said her mother had invited him. “She did, did she? I see. To my knowledge, this was supposed to be a family affair, but who knows what surprises my mother has in store?” She gave him as friendly a smile as she could, then returned to her seat. Adrian took the only empty chair, beside Holly and across from Pansy.</p><p>Amaryllis made a great show of welcoming Adrian, but Pansy could barely hear over the blood roaring in her ears. She was almost shaking, she was so furious. Of course, Pansy’s mother wouldn’t miss an opportunity to shove her single status in her face. Of course, she would take advantage of an unsuspecting Pansy and parade yet another eligible bachelor in front of her. </p><p>What made this occasion especially infuriating was that the wizard being shoved in her way was Adrian. A few years before, after Draco’s elopement when Amaryllis finally admitted that he was out of the realm of possibility, Pansy had developed feelings for Adrian. She’d bumped into him at a pub one night, and they’d hit it off. When Pansy had suggested him to her mother as an option—back when she’d thought she could participate somewhat in the process and be truly heard—Amaryllis had made it abundantly clear that neither Adrian nor his family were good enough. She’d disparaged him almost as vilely as she’d done Greg, and had said, in no uncertain terms, that Adrian was out of the question. </p><p>In the two years that had passed since then, however, Adrian’s business in freelance curse-breaking had exploded, making him the fastest self-made millionaire in wizarding history. He’d been featured in every wizarding publication possible for all kinds of reasons, including <i>Witch Weekly</i> as the “Hottest New Face in the Who’s Who of Wizarding Society.” Adrian had clearly enjoyed his time in the limelight, if the gossip articles published about him were even half true. </p><p>But all of that didn’t matter—the salacious tales, the questions of his integrity, the shroud of darkness that seemed to follow Adrian—no, not to Amaryllis. Adrian was now in possession of a fortune that, while nothing compared to their own or the Malfoys, for example, she apparently deemed good enough for her third daughter. </p><p>Pansy hadn’t seen Adrian in at least a year, and her feelings had quickly faded. Most of her energy was spent in her work, with friends, and in rebuffing her mother’s interference in her life. It was exhausting. Pansy hadn’t thought about romance, she was so turned off by the constant pressure to find a suitable partner. </p><p>She’d grown up knowing what was expected of her, but when it actually came time to carry it out, she’d found that she wasn’t interested. Maybe it was the war they’d gone through, or seeing the consequences of holding on to strict pureblood ideals, or something else entirely—maybe she was like Draco’s aunt, Andromeda, who’d also bucked the system and married a Muggle-born. Or, quite possibly, it was entirely due to her mother’s incessant nagging throughout her whole life. Whatever the reason or reasons, Pansy had simply never spent any time attempting to cultivate a relationship. She’d had short flings, sure, but nothing serious. If she did, she knew her mother would pounce and demand to insert herself and ask all manner of probing and inappropriate questions right from the very beginning. </p><p>No, better to just focus on separating herself from her family and getting to the point where she could be completely independent before thinking about romantic entanglements. </p><p>Although… there was the little matter of a certain red-headed wizard who made her feel all fluttery when she thought of him. But she wasn’t ready for anything those flutters suggested. It was most inconvenient, really. Though, she was awfully close to being out from under her parents’ cover. She might even be able to manage, but she was very anxious about trying. What if she failed? What if she couldn’t make it on her own? </p><p>“Pansy?”</p><p>She looked up to see everyone staring at her, including the server, quill poised. “Your order, Miss?”</p><p>Pansy forced a smile, glanced at the menu she’d neglected, and read off the first entrée she saw. The server moved on to Iris and on down the table while light conversation picked back up around her.</p><p>When the server left, Amaryllis cleared her throat. “Pansy, Adrian’s mother tells me that he’s officially on the market.”</p><p>“Mother!” Holly said with a gasp. </p><p>Pansy felt a blush start to creep onto her cheeks, and she refused to look at Adrian. </p><p>Amaryllis shrugged with a lift of an eyebrow and waved a hand dismissively. “It’s what mothers discuss, my dear.”</p><p>“That may be true,” Holly continued with a severe frown. “But that doesn’t mean it’s proper dinnertime conversation!”</p><p>Pansy gave her sister a weak smile. Holly had always been the first to speak out against their mother, though she’d never put up much of an extended fight. </p><p>“Well, Pansy once had feelings for Adrian here, so I thought it might be nice to have him for dinner.”</p><p>There were a few gasps and Pansy felt her cheeks heat with rage and shame. </p><p>The sound of a chair scraping on the floor drew everyone’s attention to Adrian. He stood and glanced around the table, his eyes landing on Pansy. “I apologize deeply, Pansy. I had no idea what this dinner would be about, but I’ve no interest in whatever is going on here. I’ll see myself out.”</p><p>Pansy waited until the door had closed before getting up and rushing after him. “Adrian!” she called, stopping him when he was halfway to the front door. He steeled himself and when she reached him, they stepped into a more secluded spot. “I’m so sorry, Adrian. I… can’t even begin—”</p><p>He held up his hand, his expression sympathetic. “No need, Pansy. I know what families are like. It’s one reason I struck out on my own. I’m only sorry that you were subjected to that. Hopefully now that I’m gone, your family can truly celebrate with you.”</p><p>“Not bloody likely,” she said with a scowl. </p><p>“Is it true?”</p><p>She looked up at him. “Is what true?” </p><p>“You had feelings for me?” His eyes were sincere and questing. </p><p>“It was a few years ago.” Pansy shrugged. </p><p>Adrian nodded thoughtfully. Then he took her hand and kissed it. “I wish you the happiest of birthdays, Pansy. If we could start this whole evening over, I’d like to inquire if I might see you again sometime soon.”</p><p>“Oh! Well, um… As I said, that was some time ago.”</p><p>“Perhaps an ember still burns?” He gave her a dazzling smile. </p><p>“I’ll… consider it,” she said finally. There’d been no spark, no hitch in her heart when he’d taken her hand, but she didn’t trust herself right then to make a good decision. She was too upset and she didn’t want to accept him only to instantly regret it, or decline him just to make her mother angry. It was a decision that required consideration, not a hasty, emotional response. </p><p>Adrian kissed her hand again and released her, straightening his sport jacket. “Owl me.” He winked and walked away without another word. </p><p>Pansy rolled her eyes. She was glad to be taking time to truly consider Adrian’s request, but her gut told her that the feelings she’d once had were long gone. She turned around, her eyes seeking the door to the room her parents had reserved for the evening. She didn’t really want to go back, but maybe now that Adrian was gone, they could have a nice meal. And with Holly there, it was no question, really. Still, there was bound to be some talk of how disappointing she was, but it would be worth it to spend time with the sister she rarely saw.</p><p>Pansy plastered a smile on her face, and made her way back to her family. They all looked up when she returned, and her mother’s eyes narrowed. </p><p>“I thought you were going to bring him back.”</p><p>“So sorry to disappoint you yet again, Mother.” Pansy returned to her chair and sat down. The food had arrived while she’d been out with Adrian, and her meal smelled incredible. </p><p>“Why didn’t you?” Amaryllis demanded.</p><p>“He wanted to leave,” Pansy replied simply. “I didn’t ask him to stay. I went to apologize to him for what you put him through.”</p><p>“What <i>I</i> put him—do you know, Pansy Lila Parkinson, that Adrian Pucey is <i>the</i> most eligible bachelor in all of wizarding England?”</p><p>Dahlia cleared her throat. “Mother, can’t we have one dinner where we don’t talk of eligible bachelors?”</p><p>Pansy glanced at Felix and Steven and saw them looking extremely uncomfortable. They’d been largely spared most of this sort of unpleasantness, but apparently Amaryllis had thrown out all pretense tonight. Little James looked confused and Darcy looked ready to cry. Pansy’s heart ached for them, forced to sit through what their grandmother was determined to make a miserable evening. </p><p>“Felix, why don’t you and Steven take the children down to the Weasley’s shop?” Pansy gave her brother-in-law a pointed look. </p><p>His expression melted into one of gratitude and he jumped up from the table and clapped his hands. “How about it, kids? Want to join me and Uncle Steve at the joke shop?”</p><p>James and Darcy lit up and nodded vigorously. Steven, new to the family but not to family politics, kissed Iris on the cheek and followed his future brother-in-law out of the room. </p><p>Amaryllis made a face. “That joke shop is precisely that. A joke. You really shouldn’t let Felix shop there, Dahlia.”</p><p>Dahlia’s jaw clenched. “Felix can shop wherever he pleases, Mother.”</p><p>Everyone froze. Dahlia wasn’t one to argue or make waves, and Pansy was both pleased and surprised at the change. Their mother looked as though she couldn’t believe what had just happened. </p><p>“I am only looking out for Pansy’s best interests,” Amaryllis said sharply, shaking out her napkin with a snap. </p><p>Pansy couldn’t help it. She started laughing. She laughed but it wasn’t funny. Nothing about this was funny, it had never been funny, but if she didn’t laugh, she’d crawl under the table and let herself break down. Amaryllis gaped at Pansy as though she’d sprouted wings, and Iris took her hand. When she had calmed down enough, she looked at her mother with tears of heartbroken laughter. </p><p>“How can you say that with a straight face, Mother?” she asked when her breathing had somewhat returned to normal. </p><p>Amaryllis spread her hands and looked at her other daughters for support. “How can you doubt me, my dear? My every thought is bent toward seeing you settled.” She cast a wary glance at Holly but said nothing.</p><p>“Why can’t you let <i>me</i> worry about that?” Pansy demanded. “It’s my life, and I can choose who or <i>if</i> I want to marry! I mean, I think I do, but my whole life you’ve been interfering, and now I’m not sure I even know what I want. Everything I do and think and feel is a reaction to your antics. What if… What if I don’t want to marry? Like Holly?” All eyes but Pansy’s and Amaryllis’ flitted to the second eldest. “What if I don’t want to marry the most eligible bachelor in wizarding England? Or wizarding Spain? Or wizarding Lichtenstein? Or what if I want to marry someone who doesn’t have a vault full of gold? Maybe I want to have a career first! Maybe I like my life just as it is. Or maybe I hate it because I don’t have any time to just be, to exist in my own skin!”</p><p>Amaryllis waited until Pansy paused to take a breath, then leveled her daughter with a hard stare. “Pansy, don’t be so ungrateful. Look at what I’ve done for your sisters.”</p><p>“Felix chose me, you know.” Dahlia was glaring at their mother. “<i>In spite</i> of your antics, which you thought were so helpful.”</p><p>Iris was too much of a pleaser to say anything, but Pansy sensed her shifting uncomfortably. </p><p>“Yeah, Pansy, look at me.” Holly gave her fierce, warm smile. “I’m as free as I can be, thanks to Mother.”</p><p>Bolstered by her sisters’ support, Pansy scowled at her mother. “I don’t need your help. I am fine on my own.”</p><p>“Oh? Really?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “You’re fine without the weekly deposits in your vault?” She gave Pansy a smug look, thinking she’d knocked her feet out from under her.</p><p>“As a matter of fact, yes. I haven’t touched that money in almost two years.” Pansy held her chin high. “I don’t need your money.”</p><p>Amaryllis narrowed her eyes. “In that case, let’s see how you do with half from now on.”</p><p>Pansy rolled her eyes. “You don’t seem to have heard me. I don’t need your money. Adrian made a name for himself outside of his family, so did Theo. Even Draco did. If he can do it, then I can as well. And he not only made his own way, he married Granger, a Muggle-born. So don’t try to tell me that I have to find someone who fits your definition of suitable!”</p><p>“Draco,” said Amaryllis with a superior sniff, “is a man. Men are usually forgiven for their… <i>indiscretions</i>… more easily than women. That Draco married far beneath him has been seen as a quaint trait from an otherwise powerful family and flawless heir. It’s a novelty in our circles, and is tolerated because Draco will do great things. The same forgiveness will not be extended to you, I’m afraid.”</p><p>It was all she could do not to scream. “I don’t think you understand me, Mother. I don’t care. About any of it.”</p><p>Amaryllis’ sneer was legendary, and she turned it fully on her daughter now. “I don’t think you understand, Pansy, dear. You would be nothing if you married beneath your station. Draco could do it because he is a man and had established himself beyond Lucius beforehand. What are you going to do? You’re a glorified servant at that little publication of yours, and if you truly walk away from this family, do you think you’ll remain employed there? No, remember, it is your family name that secured and holds that position.”</p><p>Pansy’s heart skipped a beat; was her mother correct?</p><p>“And please, don’t let’s talk of you marrying. You’re nowhere near the institution. Have you got some war hero Muggle-born tucked away that I don’t know about? Someone who, in and of himself, is going places in the wizarding world? Hm? Because that is the only reason Draco’s wife is even admitted to certain things, and there are still places where she’ll never be welcome.”</p><p>“Not that she cares,” muttered Iris.</p><p>Pansy gave her a grateful smile. </p><p>“Is there someone like that out there waiting for you, darling?” Amaryllis paused, waiting, letting the silence stretch.</p><p>For the briefest of moments, Pansy thought of Ron, but she shoved the impulse away. She’d barely spoken to Ron, and she refused to think of him in the kind of terms her mother was suggesting. Even if they were together, he wasn’t some trophy to be displayed, some accessory to her glittering life which might make her more interesting or approachable or distinguished. </p><p>Pansy met her mother’s unforgiving gaze with one of her own. “I don’t need someone out there waiting for me, Mother. And I certainly don’t need you to find someone for me. I can’t believe you invited Adrian here for my birthday party. What I felt for him was years ago, but he wasn’t good enough for you then. You turned your nose up at him so fast I’m surprised you didn’t snap your neck. So then you have the audacity to invite him to this dinner? Where everyone else is family? What was he supposed to think?”</p><p>Amaryllis rolled her eyes dramatically and sipped from her wine glass. No one else had touched their food.  “What do you think I wanted him to think?”</p><p>“So this whole night was just about Adrian?” Pansy was so angry and hurt that she was shaking. </p><p>“Not completely.” Amaryllis inclined her head toward a small pile of what were likely gifts on the table beside her plate. “Though I had hoped you’d walk out on that young man’s arm. I thought he was what you wanted.” She threw up her hands as though Pansy was being unreasonable.</p><p>Pansy stood, the sound of her chair scraping loud in the nearly silent room. All eyes were on her, even her mother’s. With a quick flick of her wrist, she wordlessly Summoned the gifts. There were cards from Iris and Dahlia, a small box from Holly, and finally, a card from her parents. She tucked the gifts she cared about into her purse, then opened the card, which she knew was her mother’s doing, despite the fact that it would be signed by both parents. It was hand-made, though Pansy doubted her mother had done it herself. The wording, however, was all hers. </p><p>She read it and scoffed. “‘Dear Pansy, congratulations on another year. You are as beautiful as always, and it is my deepest hope that one year hence, you’ll wear a different last name. Perhaps then we can converse without all the tension our relationship seems fraught with. All my love, Amaryllis.’” Her father had scratched out his name, absent as ever. </p><p>Her eyes flitted to him and he gave her a weak smile. “I love you, Pansy. I’m happy to be with you tonight.”</p><p>Tears blurred her vision. Her father, while kind, was a weak man, and he’d been easily overrun by his overbearing wife. Too cowardly, too proper, too concerned with public image—she never could decide which, or if it was a combination—he’d never attempted to temper his wife’s outspoken and rude behavior. Or maybe he had given up before Pansy was even born. </p><p>“I love you, too, Daddy.”</p><p>Then Pansy blinked, drying her tears with her napkin, and turned to her mother. She met the woman’s cold, hard gaze, at first confused and disappointed, but then she steeled herself. She feigned a smile, then ripped the card in half and dropped it onto her plate. </p><p>Someone gasped, though Pansy didn’t take her eyes off her mother to try and see who it was. “Let me be clear, for the last time, Mother. I don’t need your help. My life will be just fine without you in it. I don’t want your help, and even if I did need something, you are the last person on earth I’d ask. And I sure as hell don’t deserve this.”</p><p>Amaryllis tutted, her patience at an end. “Sit down, Pansy. For Merlin’s sake, you’re a grown woman, and if you don’t watch yourself, you’ll be cut off before you can blink. You don’t have the luxury of throwing this… this glorified tantrum.”</p><p>“I would rather have no luxury in my life than this. So, feel free to consider me cut off.” She turned to address her sisters. “Dahlia, Holly, Iris, thank you so much for making the effort to come tonight. It means more than I can say.” Her gaze lingered on Holly, and she managed a small smile. “You are all most welcome in my life any time, and you will always be in my heart. Father, I’m sorry that your life holds so little opportunity for joy. Maybe we can have tea some time, just us.” She pursed her lips, heart pounding wildly as she debated speaking to her mother. Finally, unable to think of anything to say, she gave Amaryllis one last, piercing glare. For a fraction of an instant, she saw her mother’s gaze waver, a thread of doubt crept into her ice-cold stare, but then it was gone. “Goodbye.”</p><p>Pansy collected her things, pushed her chair in, and walked out as calmly as she could. When the door to the room was closed behind her, she let out a shuddering breath. She swallowed a sob and was about to bolt when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Pansy spun to see Holly, a worried expression on her face. </p><p>“Are you okay?” she asked.</p><p>“I will be.” Pansy’s smile was braver than she felt. </p><p>“Do you want to go somewhere? Want to talk? I’m staying the night at the Leaky, we can have a few drinks, talk about mom, pass out on my bed…” </p><p>Pansy shook her head. “Thanks, Holls, but I think I just want to be alone right now.”</p><p>Holly nodded with a sympathetic smile. “Right. You know where to find me. Room four fifteen.”</p><p>“Thanks. Maybe we can have breakfast together. I’ll send an owl later.”</p><p>“See that you do.” Holly squeezed her hand and left the restaurant.</p><p>Pansy realized her other sisters might be close behind, so she quickly made her way to the exit. When she stepped out of the restaurant, her first thought was extreme disappointment that it wasn’t raining. She needed to ruin this dress, even though it was her favorite, because now it would forever be tainted with this sham of a birthday celebration. </p><p>One thing was certain: she’d never trust her mother again. </p><p>As the sights and sounds of the Alley began penetrating Pansy’s senses, she started to shake—whether from cold or anger or the sheer weight of what just happened, she wasn’t sure, but she had no energy left for seeking out the rain. If she didn’t find somewhere safe soon, she’d become her own storm, and she didn’t want to be standing in the middle of the street when that happened.</p><p>Then she remembered the fountain. It was located in a part of Diagon Alley that wasn’t heavily frequented after dark, and she headed there immediately. As she left the more populated area, she began to hear her own footsteps, her shoes clacking on the large flagstones. </p><p>The fountain in Diagon Alley stood in the heart of the market area. It had a solid stone base, about twenty feet across, with a wide ledge made for sitting. The fountain itself was a three-tiered iron structure with three wide, shallow tiers that got smaller as they went up. Water sprayed out of the top and flowed down the bowls until it rained into the large base. A couple was strolling in the area, hand-in-hand, and Pansy hesitated, but they didn’t pay her any attention. Once they were out of sight, she marched toward the fountain with determination. </p><p>At the edge, she hesitated, but only long enough to remove her shoes. She set them, along with her purse—which held the gifts from her sisters—on the edge of the fountain and tentatively dipped a toe into the water. It was very cold, but in a way it was just what she needed. She stepped fully into the fountain, letting herself get used to the water, which only came up to mid-calf. At first, she tried to get wet from the water falling out of the lowest bowl, but when that didn’t satisfy, she counted to three and sat down. </p><p>The shock of the cold made her gasp, and she couldn’t move for a few minutes. Then, once she was acclimated, she closed her eyes and lay back, submerged except for her face. She replayed the evening, tears smarting afresh, and before long, she had to sit up because the floodgates were about to burst. </p><p>Pansy had never been one to cry; she’d always been told it was a sign of weakness. As a child, she’d learned to swallow her feelings, her disappointments, and her failures, but only until she was safely alone, where she could cry without reserve. Now she was alone, the sound of the constant rain of the fountain soothing and calming but also permissive, she allowed herself to break open. Her back to the wall of the stone base, she let the tears flow, her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. </p><p>She had no idea how long she sat like that, but it didn’t feel like too long before she heard someone calling her name. It didn’t fully register, however; nothing did, she was so lost in releasing everything from that night, the weeks before it, and the life beyond that. She grieved the loss of her family, because even though her mother was not a safe person, she was still her mother, the one who had doted on her, cared for her, taught her so much about the world. She cried for the disappointment of a father who had never been there for her in the ways she needed, and now she knew, beyond a doubt, that he would not be giving her away when and if she ever married. </p><p>Then, she heard a sound that broke through her sorrow, and she lifted her head just in time to see someone sit down beside her. She was so startled that she stopped crying, gaping at the sight of Ron Weasley sitting in the fountain. </p><p>“Saw you walk by the shop.” He seemed to not know what to do with his hands, which he hadn’t yet submerged. Finally, he gave up and put one on the wall behind her, the other he let fall into the water beside him. “From my window. I was curious, so I followed. Arrived just in time to see you lay flat in the water.”</p><p>Pansy sniffed, the barest semblance of amusement striking her heart. It wasn’t enough to reach her features, but she felt it deep inside. </p><p>Ron looked at her, his eyes full of deep concern. “Are you okay? No, wait. Scratch that. Of course you’re bloody well not okay. Can I help?”</p><p>Fresh tears filled her eyes, but even if she had wanted to speak, all that came out was a sob. Her head fell forward, her hair shielding her from his sight, not even sparing a thought for her red, puffy eyes and nose. In an instant, he had wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. Pansy melted against his side, curling into him as he tucked her closer. </p><p>She cried some more, because she couldn’t help it, but it was different with him there. After a few minutes, she felt him lean his head against hers and she thought she might burst at the sweetness. It was only a few more minutes before her tears stopped flowing, and she allowed herself to simply exist in that moment, his arm around her, the steady beat of his heart soothing as she leaned against his chest. </p><p>Finally, she sat up, and Ron let his arm drop back to the wide rim of the fountain. Pansy hugged her knees to herself once more, enjoying the scant heat emanating from Ron’s body. She knew he had to be cold as well.</p><p>“Do you want to talk?” he asked after a long moment of silence. </p><p>Did she? She hadn’t wanted to talk to Holly about everything. Even though she’d always felt closest to Holly growing up, some of that intimacy had naturally faded when Holly left England. She hadn’t been there for the years of their mother’s increasingly desperate and elaborate attempts to get Pansy married, and there was so much she’d have to tell her. It was probably too long a conversation for recovery, but once Pansy felt better, she had no doubt she’d end up at her sister’s room to talk the night away.</p><p>But with Ron, she didn’t have to get into everything; he knew enough to understand. “It’s my birthday.”</p><p>“Bugger. Is it really?” </p><p>Pansy sniffed and nodded, looking at him now that her eyes weren’t filled with tears. He wore a pair of Muggle denims and a large sweater. His bright, blue eyes were wide in surprise. “Family dinner didn’t go well. My mother invited someone I used to care about, thinking that somehow I would… I don’t know, magically fall in love with him over dinner?”</p><p>At the mention of the meal she hadn’t eaten, her stomach rumbled. </p><p>Ron frowned. “Did you even eat?”</p><p>“No. We had a huge row and I left.”</p><p>He was quiet for a moment, then he nodded his head decisively. “Right, then. We’re doing something to celebrate.” Ron stood, water cascading around him, splashing her again. Though she’d been sitting in the fountain for a long time, the new wave of cold water was still a shock. “Sorry.” He held out his hand. “What do you say?”</p><p>Pansy eyed him curiously, seeing only genuine concern and… was that interest? Her gaze trailed down his arm to where his hand waited, extended toward her. She noted his fingers; he wore a ring on the fifth, a simple black band. “Why are you so nice to me?”</p><p>Ron seemed taken aback by the question, but he didn’t withdraw his hand. Instead he shrugged. “Because I want to be.”</p><p>She smiled and set her hand in his, allowing him to help her to her feet. Once out of the somewhat protective nature of the fountain, the wind whipped around her and it sent chills straight through her. </p><p>“First things first. You need dry clothes.”</p><p>Pansy laughed, her teeth chattering. “So do you.”</p><p>Ron gave her a lopsided grin as he started putting on his socks and shoes. Then he straightened and cast a drying charm on his clothes. “I’m not in silk, remember? But anyway, you can get changed at the shop, then I know this place near Hermione’s work that’s bloody fantastic.”</p><p>Pansy hummed lightly and picked up her own shoes and bag. Ron put his hand on her back, gently leading her away from the fountain and into the more populated parts of Diagon Alley. The light pressure and the warmth of his touch were doing funny things to her insides, but despite the fact that leaning into him made it more intense, she didn’t want to stop. </p><p>Halfway to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, however, Ron stopped in his tracks. Pansy took two steps away from him before she realized, and when she turned around, his brow was furrowed and his gaze was directed down the street. “I’ve just remembered. I was—am—supposed to meet Harry and Hermione at the Leaky in… fifteen minutes ago. You want to join us? Malfoy usually comes, too—when they have a sitter.”</p><p>Disappointment flooded through her, which came as a surprise. She hadn’t realized how much she wanted to have dinner with him, but she masked her displeasure with a practiced smile. “I’d really rather not. I don’t think I’m up for the pub tonight.” The thought of the noise, the raucous behavior, the smells… No, what she really needed was a long soak in a bubble bath and a glass—or three—of wine. </p><p>Ron blinked. “Right. Yeah, of course.” He resumed walking, faster than before, so that Pansy had to hurry to keep up with him. When he got to the shop, he opened the front door and locked it behind them. “I’ve got an idea. Let me grab you something to wear.” He practically sprinted to the back room where the stairs that led to his flat were located. </p><p>Pansy slowly made her way there, gazing unseeingly around the darkened showroom. </p><p>Just as she arrived at the office door, Ron burst through it, holding the same clothes she’d borrowed before. “Here. There’s a small shower in the back of the office, if you’d like to use it to get warm. I’m… I’ll be back, just… stay here, yeah?”</p><p>“What? Weasley, where are you—” </p><p>But he’d already left the shop. She watched him run down the street and out of sight. Pansy sighed heavily and locked the door to the office, then proceeded to make use of the shower. She was extremely curious about its presence and fully intended to ask Ron about it when he returned. </p><p>The warm water felt very good after being in the cold for so long, and for a while, she just stood there, letting the sound and feel of the water drive all thoughts from her mind. She had no idea what Ron was doing, but she could no longer ignore the emptiness of her stomach. Maybe there was something in the shop she could eat, or she could see what he had in his flat if he didn’t return quickly. Once her mind turned to her hunger, there was no peace in the shower, so she got out and put Ron’s clothes on again. The same scent that she’d noticed that first time was present again, and she indulged in a long, deep inhale with her nose pressed to the sleeve.</p><p>She once again altered the trousers so that they fit, but she left the long-sleeve shirt baggy. It was made of a thick material, and felt warm and cozy. Pansy was toweling off her hair when she heard a door chime. Ron must be back. Pansy wadded up the lavender dress, found something to put it in for transport, and left the office. </p><p>“Weasley? I mean, Ron?” She heard movement in the corner where they’d sat last time, so she made her way toward the area for smaller children. When she rounded the corner, she gasped. He’d magically rearranged the entire space, and in place of the two comfortable armchairs and the low table was a dining table for two. </p><p>But he hadn’t just procured food; somehow, he’d also managed to decorate using what she suspected were items from the shop. There was a string of lights slung from the ceiling around the eating area. When she looked closely, she saw that they weren’t fairies but tiny glass balls filled with wires glowing in all different colors. On the table itself, as a kind of centerpiece, was a glass ball about the size of a Bludger. Inside, miniature fireworks were exploding in rapid succession, casting a constantly pulsing dance of light around the room. </p><p>Most exciting for her at that moment was what else sat on the table. At each place was a basket of food, and as the smell of fresh chips wafted her way, her stomach growled so loudly Ron noticed her presence for the first time. He gave her a sheepish grin; he’d been in the middle of trying to light a few candles. </p><p>“Bloody things must be some of George’s special candles. They keep trying to shout obscenities at me.” He shrugged.</p><p>Pansy laughed. “That’s quite all right. I think it’s lovely.”</p><p>“Happy Birthday, Pansy. I’m awfully sorry that your evening was such a mess with your family.” He motioned for her to sit, and she did, eagerly.</p><p>“Where did you get the food?”</p><p>“The Leaky. I ran down and placed an order, told them to hurry. This was what they could make the fastest. I hope it’s all right.” Ron sat as well, then reached down beside him and picked up a few bottles. “I didn’t know what you’d want to drink, so I got a few options.”</p><p>Pansy grinned and read the labels, finally settling on her favorite brand of beer. “Fish and chips and beer. This is by far the best birthday I can remember.” She opened the top and took a long drink. </p><p>“Oh, I got water, as well.” Ron produced two cups and poured them both a full glass from a large pitcher.</p><p>They ate in silence for a few minutes, Pansy enjoying the greasy food more than she ever had before—probably because she was so hungry. When her stomach had settled sufficiently enough that she could think while eating, she eyed Ron. He seemed perfectly content eating without speaking, so she didn’t disturb him. She remembered it had been something of a joke, the way he’d eaten at Hogwarts, and she had both observed it herself and heard tales of it from fellow students. It was clear he still very much enjoyed his meal, but he was so fit and lean and muscular that she wondered where the food went. </p><p>“Malfoy was there.” Ron spoke between bites. “Thought you’d be interested. But I didn’t say what I was doing. Hermione looked like she wanted to ask me a hundred questions, but then, she nearly always looks like that.”</p><p>“I doubt any of them would guess that you were bringing me food.” Pansy ate a chip, savoring the saltiness. </p><p>“No. I’m sure you’re right.” His grin faltered. “Do you… want to talk more? About tonight, I mean?”</p><p>She gave him a wary look. Did she want to tell him more? Ron was surprisingly easy to talk to, and she really wasn’t sure why she kept opening up to him. Granted, their interactions weren’t exactly planned, but she had started to think about him whenever it rained. His expression was earnest, so genuine it almost hurt. There was no doubt in her mind that she could trust him; the question was whether she <i>would</i>. </p><p>“You don’t have to.” The corner of his lips nudged up with the beginnings of a smile. “I’m perfectly happy sitting here and eating in silence.”</p><p>Pansy blinked, tears smarting in her eyes. She believed him completely; he wasn’t asking her for more than she wanted to give, and it had been a long time since she’d encountered someone about whom this was true. </p><p>“I’m sure you’ve put together a few pieces over the last several weeks.” She picked at the label on her bottle, avoiding his gaze. </p><p>Ron took a bite of his chips, then leaned back in his seat, stretching his long legs out in front of him. He twined his hands behind his head and didn’t speak for a long minute. When he did, his voice was kind. “Your mother, like so many mothers of prominent pureblood families, thinks it’s about time you got married. And like many such mothers, she thinks she knows best. Since you’re obviously not cooperating, instead of backing off, she’s pushing harder and harder. And you don’t appreciate it.”</p><p>Pansy scoffed. “Well, that’s a pretty basic summary, but you’ve got the bones of it. It’s been going on for years, and now that my youngest sister is engaged, I think she’s desperate to be rid of all of us. And Holly, while not married, moved far away, so I think my mother just ignores her for the most part. Although she did invite her to dinner tonight, and Holly came, which is actually incredible. The problem is, my mother won’t listen to me. And she’s becoming increasingly belligerent. She recently invited Greg Goyle over, and I know without a doubt that she didn’t do it because she wanted me to seriously consider marrying Greg. She’d never entertain him as a possible match for me; she meant to humiliate me. Thankfully, Greg didn’t take it seriously, and we actually had fun watching my mother, especially, get angry.”</p><p>“How long has this been going on?” </p><p>She took a sip of water and then plunged into answering his question. One answer led to more questions, and before Pansy knew it, they’d been talking for hours. Ron was patient, thoughtful, and truly interested in what she was saying. He was vastly different from what she remembered of him at Hogwarts, and she distinctly recalled hearing that he was insensitive and a bit thick. </p><p>Clearly he’d grown since then. </p><p>As had she. </p><p>The war and all that followed refused to leave anyone untouched. Her family had largely escaped reprisal, but so many of their family friends had not been so lucky. It had shifted the politics of being in the pureblood upper echelon, and by nature of the Parkinsons not being directly involved in the war, they’d come out rather ahead. </p><p>She’d never forget her mother gloating over the fact that the Malfoys had been forced to pay reparations. Granted, the Malfoys had also managed to retain their position, though it had been extremely precarious at first. The wizarding world at large learned that Narcissa had lied to the Dark Lord in order to protect Draco, which had produced sympathy for them from those out for Death Eater blood. Lucius had spent time in Azkaban, but had somehow miraculously managed to keep his reputation mostly intact. These facts placed them in a good light with much of the wizarding world, but for their immediate circles, those same pureblood families they’d conspired with or who had family members also amongst the Death Eaters, it had left a sour taste in their mouths.</p><p>It was only thanks to the winds of the post-war sentiment that the Malfoys enjoyed the comfort of their position. Had the Order not prevailed, had Harry Potter not had such strong sway or been listened to with such reverence, the Malfoys might have found themselves toppled off their pedestal.</p><p>There was something about Ron that was vastly different from the friends she was used to spending time with: he laughed easily and effortlessly, and he seemed to enjoy making her laugh. He did this a lot, which surprised her at first, but then she was so drawn in to the conversation that she stopped thinking about it and simply went with it.</p><p>When she’d yawned three times in quick succession, she glanced around. The windows were completely dark and most of the lights in the shop were out. “Merlin, what time is it?”</p><p>Ron checked his watch, eyes widening before he chuckled. “Nearly two. No wonder I’m beginning to flag.”</p><p>Pansy yawned again and stood, stretching. Somehow she’d spent over five hours with Ron, doing nothing more than talking and polishing off their food. At one point, Ron had snatched some of the harmless snacks off the shelves and found more to drink in his flat, but the time had passed in a blur. “I should get going.”</p><p>Ron was cleaning up the area where they’d sat and returning things to their normal state before the shop opened the next morning. “Do you want to use the Floo?”</p><p>“No, my sister is staying at the Leaky, and she invited me to join her tonight. Of course, she’s probably long asleep, but I want to spend as much time with her as possible before she leaves.”</p><p>“Oh, all right.” Once things were back to normal, Ron followed Pansy to the front door. To their surprise, it was steadily drizzling outside. </p><p>Pansy gave him a smile. “Since I don’t have a dress to ruin, I suppose I’ll Apparate.”</p><p>Ron grinned. “I could walk you down there. I’ve an umbrella, after all.”</p><p>A flutter of anxious, delighted nerves sprang to life. “All right.”</p><p>He nodded, collected the umbrella from behind the main counter, and was by her side in moments. “Shall we?”</p><p>Pansy pushed the door open and stepped out into the chilly night air. She was thankful for the clothes Ron had chosen for her to wear, the warm trousers and long-sleeved shirt. With the ruined dress in hand, Pansy joined Ron under the umbrella for the short walk to the Leaky Cauldron. </p><p>The Alley was quiet; Pansy had never been there when it was so deserted. The street lights were glowing, illuminating the rain drops as they fell. The gentle sound of the water hitting the cobbled street was soothing, and she didn’t feel the need to speak.</p><p>Ron didn’t either, apparently, and they made the entire walk without a word. Most of the lights were off in the pub, save one that Pansy knew was where the night watchman sat. She hoped he’d let her pass to find her sister’s room. They stopped outside the brick wall, the rain falling around them and on the umbrella as they huddled under it to stay dry. It was silly, because all they’d needed to do was use a Charm, but neither of them had bothered. </p><p>Pansy turned to face him, a bit startled to find just how close they were. Her heart started pounding, and she felt nervous in the best way. When she looked up into his eyes, she found him watching her intensely. Mere inches separated them, and it would be so easy to nudge forward a little bit. When nothing happened for a long moment, she cleared her throat. “Ron. Thank you for tonight. For making my birthday so memorable.”</p><p>He swallowed hard and nodded. “It was nothing.”</p><p>“It wasn’t nothing,” she chided playfully. “It was the best birthday I’ve had in a long time after what started off as the worst. I appreciate it more than—”</p><p>He kissed her. </p><p>It was such a surprise, and so sudden, that for a heartbeat, she did nothing but stare at him. Then she kissed him back, closing that miniscule distance she’d been so mindful of moments earlier, fisting her hand in his shirt so that he wouldn’t get any ideas about stopping. It was the most perfect first kiss she could have imagined. It was sweet and hesitant, new and exciting, yet heated enough to leave her wanting more. She bit back a whine when he pulled away far, <i>far</i> too soon.</p><p>“Wow,” he muttered, eyes bright in the lantern light. </p><p>Pansy only hummed in response, smiling at him. </p><p>Ron cleared his throat and took a tiny step backward. “Um, Pansy, would you, er, like to have dinner with me? At a restaurant, I mean, and not in the children’s section of the joke shop.”</p><p>She laughed and gave his free hand a squeeze. “Yes. I’d like that. Though, for the record, I’ve no complaints about dinner in the joke shop.”</p><p>His responding smile was so brilliant her heart skipped a beat. Had anyone ever looked at her that way? She didn’t think so. </p><p>“Right then. Okay. Um, I’ll owl you soon.”</p><p>“See that you do,” Pansy replied primly. “Good night, Ron.”</p><p>“Night!” With a quick wave, he darted off through the rain, headed to his flat. </p><p>Pansy was grinning as she hurried into the Leaky Cauldron. The night watchman let her through, and she tiptoed up to the fourth floor and found her sister’s room. She knocked softly, and when Holly didn’t respond, she knocked a bit louder. Finally, Holly opened the door, squinting at the light in the hall. </p><p>“Pans?”</p><p>“Hi! I’m here.”</p><p>Holly opened the door and then quickly shut it after Pansy entered the room. “I see that. I’d expected you long before now. Where have you been?” Waking up a little, Holly’s gaze took in Pansy’s appearance and her eyes widened. “Where did you get those clothes? I know for a fact that you don’t own a Chudley Cannons shirt.”</p><p>Pansy yawned, then smiled. “I’ll tell you all about it in the morning.”</p><p>Holly blinked. “Is there something to tell?”</p><p>With a shrug, Pansy slid into the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin.</p><p>“Oh no, you don’t. You woke me up at…” She glanced at a clock on the wall. “Merlin! It’s nearly half past two! Where have you been? You can give me a short version now. It’s the least you can after waking me up in the middle of the night!”</p><p>“Fine.” Pansy tried to sound miffed, but honestly, she was too excited to mean it. </p><p>“That’s better.” Holly crawled into bed beside her and lay on her side, facing Pansy. “Surely this isn’t to do with Adrian.”</p><p>Pansy rolled her eyes. “No, certainly not.”</p><p>“Well?” Holly poked her in the side when Pansy didn’t speak right away. “It’s obviously about someone, because that’s a bloke’s shirt, and your dress is nowhere in sight. So talk. Now.”</p><p>Pansy bit her lip, unsure how to start. <i>She</i> didn’t even quite know what had happened. Yes, she thought about Ron a lot, increasingly so since their first interaction over a month prior. When it had morphed into attraction, she couldn’t pinpoint—well, not counting the physical attraction she’d felt for him that first night. But attraction and affection were two very different things, and she could say, without a doubt, that she had feelings for him. Perhaps it had blossomed that very night, as they’d talked for hours about everything and nothing.</p><p>“Hey. Come out of dreamland.” Holly poked her again. “What’s his name?”</p><p>“Ron Weasley.” His name rushed through her lips and she smiled at the way it sounded.</p><p>“Oh, wow. A Weasley?” </p><p>Pansy nodded, then covered her face with her hands. “I can’t believe it myself.”</p><p>Holly lay flat on her back and crossed her hands on her stomach. “Weasley, Weasley. I went to school with Percy. He was such an uptight prick. His older brothers were delicious though. I always wished Charlie was in Slytherin.”</p><p>“Really? What about Valentina, or whatever her name is?”</p><p>Holly waved dismissively. “That didn’t last long. I can find men attractive too, you know. And back then, I didn’t know what I was feeling. It was all very confusing.”</p><p>“Are you seeing someone now?” Pansy hadn’t had the opportunity to talk to Holly much in a long time. </p><p>“Sort of. There’s a witch I’ve been out with a few times. But there’s also this bloke I keep making up excuses to see.” She shrugged. “But you’re trying to change the subject. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”</p><p>“I’m not! I’m only curious about you.”</p><p>“That can wait until tomorrow.” Holly turned her head on the pillow to look at Pansy. “I’m not willing to discuss my love life at this hour.”</p><p>Pansy smiled. “Oh, right. That. I don’t know how much there is to tell. We… sort of ran into each other at the end of August. It’s a long story, and I’m only up for the short version right now, but since then, I’ve seen him a handful of times. Each one has been better than the one before it, and then tonight, he found me in the fountain.”</p><p>“The fountain?” Holly scrunched her nose. “Pansy, why?”</p><p>“It wasn’t raining, and I needed the water to ruin my dress. It’s something I’ve been doing for a while now. Trying to get a reaction from Mother, I suppose.” She sighed. “It’s not really working though; she hasn’t mentioned a single tattered dress I’ve mailed her. Anyway. He was just so… there. So present. Willing to sit with me in the fountain while I sobbed—and I don’t mean figuratively! When I finally talked to him, I told him it was my birthday, and he insisted on feeding me.”</p><p>“Oh no, anything but that,” Holly said teasingly.</p><p>“We had dinner in his brother’s joke shop after he gave me these clothes because my dress was soaked. And somehow five hours passed.”</p><p>Holly gaped. “Five? You’ve been talking to him for five hours?”</p><p>Pansy nodded with a smile.</p><p>Then Holly looked at her suspiciously. “Just talking? Really?”</p><p>Pansy was thankful it was so dark because she felt herself blush fiercely. She swatted Holly with a pillow. “Yes! We only talked.” </p><p>“Don’t hold out any juicy details on my account.” Holly smirked at her. </p><p>“There’s nothing to tell on that front. Although, he did kiss me a few minutes ago. When he dropped me off here. But that was the first time, and I was stunned. He hadn’t given me any indication that he liked me up until that moment.”</p><p>Holly raised an eyebrow. “Oh, sure. No indication except that he got into a bloody fountain with you, bought you dinner on your birthday, and spent five hours of his time with you. Then he walked you down the street? I mean, really? Who could have seen that coming?”</p><p>Pansy tried to feign being cross, but she couldn’t manage it. She laughed. “Yes. But all that happened just tonight. I hadn’t had time to consider it yet.”</p><p>“And you like him?” </p><p>She nodded, her blush deepening. “I can’t tell you how he makes me feel. And it’s all so very different from everyone I’ve ever dated before.”</p><p>A sudden weight settled between them as a shadow fell on Pansy’s heart. She wondered if Holly was thinking the same thing. </p><p>“What do you think Mother will say?” </p><p>Pansy sighed. “I’ve no idea. I haven’t thought about it, but what can she say? Ron is a pureblood, he’s incredibly famous, which for Mother is a decent substitute for being filthy rich, and he’s doing pretty well. The joke shop does <i>very</i> well, I’m sure, though I don’t know how much of a part he has in that. But he’s well-known and well-liked.”</p><p>Holly gave her a look. “According to Mother and Father, the Weasleys are blood traitors and therefore completely unsuitable. But you know that.”</p><p>“Surely that opinion has changed?” Pansy gave a slight smile that felt more like a cringe.</p><p>“You know the answer to that,” Holly remarked dryly. </p><p>The small tendrils of hope that Pansy felt while advocating for Ron faded. Of course that opinion hadn’t changed; her mother had never brought the Weasleys over for a ‘Date our Daughter Dinner.’  Pansy huffed. “Well, Ron fits her mold, and in today’s world, she can’t very well go blatantly calling them names. She’ll have no choice but to accept it.”</p><p>Holly reached over and gave Pansy’s hand a squeeze. “I hope you’re right, Pans. But who knows? Maybe you’ll get lucky and Mother will die before you have to introduce Ron to her.”</p>
<hr/>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. - four -</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center"><p>
    <i>It can't be all, the truth about the rain<br/>
Is how it falls, how it falls, how it falls.<br/>
And you can't deny this room will keep you warm.<br/>
You can look out of your window at the storm</i><br/>
</p>
<hr/><p>4.</p></div><p>The first thing Ron noticed when he woke was the sunlight streaming through his window. He usually shut the curtains, so the light, while pleasant, was a bit jarring. Then he felt the bed move beside him and a grin spread across his face. <i>Oh, right</i>. </p><p>Pansy was still asleep, her back to him and hair splayed out on the pillow. For a moment, he considered reaching for her but decided to let her sleep. He knew she had a big day today—it was the final day of edits on next month’s issue—and she’d debated about even staying the night after their fourth date. He’d promised to help her get out the door on time if she stayed, and he was determined to be true to his word. </p><p>Ron glanced at the clock. She had forty-five minutes before she needed to be at work, and she’d have to go to her flat to get ready for the day. He wanted to sneak out and procure breakfast, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. </p><p>Somehow, for some miraculous reason, Pansy had agreed to dinner that night he walked her to the Leaky in the rain. Then she’d said yes again, then again, and again, their dates stretching longer each time, culminating in them tumbling into his bed the night before. It had been beyond anything he’d ever imagined or experienced, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit—to himself only, for now—that he was well on his way to falling hard and fast into love. It was the most unexpected thing he’d ever experienced, and he’d never been so happy. Nothing in his life before could compare, and he finally, truly understood, to the deepest corners of his heart, why Hermione had been right to end things years before. If what he was experiencing with Pansy was love, then anything less was unacceptable. Now that he knew <i>this</i> was possible, he could never go back.</p><p>Pansy stirred, rolling onto her back, her eyes fluttering open with surprise at first, then she met his gaze. He knew he was grinning but he didn’t care. She smiled shyly, her eyes wandering over his face and finally falling to the tattoo on his left side. She propped herself on her elbow and faced him, gingerly reaching out to touch the colorful image on his chest and neck. </p><p>“What’s this?”</p><p>Ron’s grin faltered a little and he flopped onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “It’s… for Fred. We all got them. Or, rather, some variation. We chose a Phoenix, because he’d been so eager to join the Order and fight. And also because he’s still alive. Through the rest of us.” While most of his brothers had opted for something small, Ron had been drawn to something much bigger. He’d asked the artist to include other things, too, to craft an entire scene. The tattoo covered his upper chest and back on the left side, his shoulder and upper arm, and part of it extended onto his neck.   </p><p>Pansy lightly traced the phoenix, then found his hand and threaded her fingers with his. “It’s beautiful. I wanted to ask about it last night, but I was a bit… distracted.”</p><p>He squeezed her hand and pulled her close to kiss her deeply. She instantly responded, pressing herself against his side. After a very long, heady snog, he broke the kiss, his breathing ragged. “I promised I would make sure you’re not late to work.”</p><p>She smirked, extricating herself enough so that she could climb on top of him. “I think we’ve got time.”</p>
<hr/><p>Ron whistled as he descended the stairs into the shop office. Pansy had left just in time to get to work early, they’d gotten a shag in, and he had plans to see her again before the week ended. He hadn’t expected to find himself in a relationship, but it was the best thing to have ever happened to him. </p><p>George was in the office, tinkering with Lee on a product still in developmental stages. He briefly frowned at Ron, who refused to let anything put a nick in his good mood.</p><p>“Morning, George, Lee.” He headed past them into the shop itself, turning on lights with a wave of his wand as he walked to the front door to unlock it. That done, he busied himself behind the main counter.</p><p>“You’re in a good mood.” George had his arms crossed accusingly. “Is it her?”</p><p>“George, I wish you’d let this go.” Ron sighed. “Harry’s talked to you about it; he’s forgiven her. She had absolutely nothing to do with Fred. Can’t you let it go?” There was a section toward the back of the shop that Ron hadn’t straightened the night before—on account of being a bit busy with Pansy—and he started to walk in that direction. </p><p>“I… I’m trying, Ron.” George was still wearing a frown. “I’ve never seen you as happy as you’ve been the last two weeks.”</p><p>Lee came up behind Ron and clapped him on the back. “I agree. Though unless I’m quite mistaken, this <i>particular</i> face is the face of a man who got very lucky last night.” He winked at Ron and disappeared into the store.</p><p>Ron blushed, thinking how he’d also gotten lucky that morning. He had to push such thoughts away or he’d never get anything done, and today was a very important day for him. “Don’t forget, I’ve got that meeting this afternoon at two.”</p><p>George’s frown deepened. “With the marketing agency?”</p><p>“Yes. I’ll take my lunch then.”</p><p>George waved him off. “Don’t be silly, Ron. You can have a lunch <i>and</i> go to your meeting. What kind of employer do you think I am?”</p><p>Ron grinned. “The best, of course.”</p><p>“Obviously not, if you want to leave.” George ducked under the counter, rifling through the cabinet as though looking for something.</p><p>Ron was startled. “It’s not that I want to leave, George. I might have an opportunity to do something I really enjoy, something that challenges me.” He shrugged.</p><p>“But do you have to leave in order to do that?” </p><p>Ron just stared at his brother. Before he could think about an answer or ask George what he meant, the first customer walked in and wanted to speak with George, ending the conversation. </p><p>The day flew by, as they always did. At ten before two, he was dressed in his best trousers, a button-down shirt, and even a tie and blazer. It felt wrong, as such clothing always did, but he knew he’d only be dressed this way for a short time. The Amberton &amp; Associates Marketing Firm was located in a small, business-oriented wizarding area in London. Ron had been to the area before, as it was near where Pansy worked, so he Apparated to the alley behind her magazine and walked a few blocks.  </p><p>The agency, like Pansy’s magazine, was housed in a nondescript brick building which belied what was inside. Like her workplace, everything was sleek and modern, but instead of white and glass, the agency employed ample use of wood and steel. He found his way to the reception area and gave his name.</p><p>“Mr. Weasley. Of course. Miss Amberton is expecting you, follow me, please.” </p><p>Ron casually shoved his hands in his pockets, trying not to be too nervous. This woman, Sarah Amberton, had approached him, multiple times, for this meeting, and he truly didn’t even know what it was about. He had no reason to be nervous, except for the idea that he really enjoyed the design and advertising work he’d done for George, and the thought of getting paid to do more of it was exciting. He really didn’t want to mess this up.</p><p>Miss Amberton emerged from her office just as they arrived, and she smiled and extended her hand. “Mr. Weasley. Thank you for coming.” She nodded to the receptionist, who then left, and led Ron into her office. “You’re not easy to get in touch with.” As she sat behind her desk, she indicated a chair for him opposite her. Her eyes twinkled. “Or, at least, not when I get the feeling your brother doesn’t want me to speak with you.”</p><p>Ron shrugged. “He told me you’d dropped by. I had some other things on my mind and couldn’t get back to you right away.” </p><p>“Naturally. It’s not a problem. You’re here now, and that’s what matters. Mr. Weasley, I’m going to get straight to it. I’ve asked you here because what I’ve seen of your work at Wheezes is impressive, and I think your talents could be trained and honed, making you into one of the most sought after designers in London. And I believe this firm is the best place for you.”</p><p>“You mean it?” He didn’t want to come across as too excited or interested, but he was genuinely curious. Yes, his results at the shop had been obvious, but to hear that he had some natural talent for it, from someone in the business, was important to him. </p><p>She raised an eyebrow. “I assure you, I didn’t bring you here to waste my time or yours. We’re prepared to offer you an internship position. You’d be paid, but not much, and you’d learn the basics of what we do and how we do it. Naturally, at the end of that time, you’d be offered a position, assuming your time here was spent well.”</p><p>“Just like that?” </p><p>“Just like that. Normally, we require some sort of portfolio from our applicants, but my partners and I have seen enough of your work to feel confident in this offer. It—”</p><p>“Really?” He knew he shouldn’t interrupt, but he was completely surprised.</p><p>Miss Amberton smiled patiently. “Yes, we’ve all been by the shop to see your work. One of my colleagues was actually the first to notice your work. He’d gone to buy something for his niece, noticed the new packaging and display, and asked your brother about it. He liked it so much he brought it to the office the next day to show us.”</p><p>Ron didn’t bother to try and hide his astonishment. He’d had no idea his work was actually good; it had simply been something he’d done to help pass the time, a way to feel as though George was getting something out his working there, and the extra sales hadn’t hurt.</p><p>“The position would begin next week.” Miss Amberton slid a piece of parchment across her desk, then set a quill and ink bottle beside it. “All you have to do is sign.”</p><p>Ron picked up the document. It was an offer of employment as an intern. He was thrilled and overwhelmed, full of questions and doubts. “How many hours a week are involved?”</p><p>“You’d be here when we’re here, which is from nine to six with an hour for lunch. The internship period lasts six months.” </p><p>The shop was open later than six, but there was no way he could continue his usual work there and also work the kind of hours she’d mentioned. He frowned. This was happening so quickly; he hadn’t truly expected an offer of employment today, and he felt he should talk to George before deciding anything—especially since his comments of late seemed to indicate that he wasn’t happy with the idea of Ron leaving. </p><p>It wasn’t that he owed his brother anything, but he did feel some obligation to him and the shop. It was his way of living for Fred, paying homage to him. Ending his work at the shop would feel like severing something sacred, and it wasn’t a decision he could make lightly. </p><p>“May I think about it?” He set the contract back on her desk.</p><p>She pursed her lips as though annoyed but then smiled. “Absolutely. You’ll have through the day tomorrow, as the internship starts next week. You’d be part of a small group of highly talented people, like yourself, who want to learn this business.” She stood and walked around her desk.</p><p>Ron scrambled to stand as well. “Thank you. I’ll take the rest of the day to consider the offer and let you know first thing tomorrow.”</p><p>“Good. I know you’ll do well here, Mr. Weasley.”</p><p>They shook hands and Ron left, his hands fisted tightly. He managed to remain calm until he’d left the building and walked to an alley from which he could Apparate. Then he had to stop and lean against the wall, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart. What was happening? It was incredible, almost unbelievably so, that he’d just been offered a chance to explore something he’d recently discovered he enjoyed doing. Though, honestly, with no formal training whatsoever, he’d had no clue about any of it. He’d simply designed something he liked, and George had liked it as well.  </p><p>Ron Apparated into his flat, changed out of his interview clothes, then returned to the shop. His mind was elsewhere, though, and it didn’t go unnoticed.</p><p>When everything was closed for the day, George remained. He did this only occasionally; since Ron lived there, he was often the one to close out the day, shut things down, and lock them up. He didn’t think much of George staying as he went around the shop turning products off. When he returned to the main counter, his brother was standing there, arms folded and frowning deeply.</p><p>“All right, George?” Ron waved his wand, whispering the special incantation for locking the front doors.</p><p>“How was your interview?”</p><p>Ron shrugged. He didn’t want George to see him too excited. “It was fine, I suppose. I didn’t really know it was an interview, though. I didn’t know what to expect.”</p><p>George nodded once. “Did they offer you a position?”</p><p>“In a way. They offered me an internship.” He had to look away, so he grabbed a rag and started wiping the counter, even though it didn’t need it. “To start Monday.”</p><p>“I see.” George was quiet, staring hard at the floor for a few long moments. “Did you accept it?”</p><p>“I said I needed to think about it.” When George looked up quickly, surprise on his face, Ron shook his head. “Did you think I’d just take it without talking to you first? I figured I owed you that much.”</p><p>“But you want to.”</p><p>Ron sighed, tossing the rag under the counter and dragging a hand through his hair as he hopped onto the counter, his back to the shop. “Honestly? I think so. I had no idea this was even a possibility. I didn’t know I could do this. George, they said my work was good! I had no idea!”</p><p>“Your stuff has been outselling the new products,” George mumbled, kicking something on the floor. “Didn’t that give you some idea?”</p><p>“Maybe, but it never crossed my mind that it was something I could be paid to do.”</p><p>George nodded, frowning again. “I think you should take it.”</p><p>Ron blinked in surprise. “You… you do?”</p><p>“Yes. Ron, you’ve been bloody incredible here. I know I’ve always been hard on you. I never took the time to notice you growing up, to see what made you light up. If I had, I might have seen this before now. But we were just kids, and then Fred went and died, and I stumbled around for years in the dark, half-alive and wishing I wasn’t. You quit the Ministry to help me here, and I… I’ve never said this, Ron, but it’s thanks to you that I could even begin to make new products.”</p><p>Ron snapped his gaze to George’s to find his brother looking at him with conviction, sincerity, and even tenderness. He swallowed hard and returned to staring at the wall. </p><p>“You convinced me to hire Lee, and that was the best decision I ever made. He and I… Well… It’s been healing to be around someone who knew Fred so well.” </p><p>There was a hitch in George’s voice that made Ron look at him again. George was tight-lipped, something indecipherable in his expression. “George?”</p><p>The older Weasley let out a long breath. “Lee was right, you know. You seem very happy lately. I suppose that’s because of Pansy. He’s been telling me this for… well, from the first, the day after you asked Pansy out. I didn’t want to see it because of my own screwed up feelings about everything related to the Final Battle, but he’s absolutely right. She makes you happy, just like… just like Lee makes… me. Happy.”</p><p>Ron’s eyes went wide. </p><p>Now George looked at Ron defiantly, as though daring him to say something unkind. “And before you start… I don’t know, I just need you to know that it’s none of your business, really, and I’ve no intention of listening if you—”</p><p>“George.” Ron jumped off the counter and took two steps toward his brother. “Hey. I’m just listening here, mate. I’ve no intention of saying anything.” He put his hands on George’s shoulders, turning his brother to face him. “If what you have with Lee makes you as happy as Pansy makes me, then I’m thrilled for you. I mean it. It’s a bit of a shock, naturally. Am I the last to know? I’m always the last to know.” He grinned, trying to lighten the mood.</p><p>George cracked a timid smile. “You’re the first, Ron. I haven’t told anyone. So you can’t tell a soul. Not even Harry. Or Hermione. Or… or Pansy.”</p><p>Ron nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, no, absolutely. I won’t say a word.” He squeezed his brother’s shoulder and dropped his arms. “Wow, George. This… this is something else. I’m happy for you. Both of you.”</p><p>“Thanks.” George’s smile was a bit more relaxed than it had been “He lets me be who I am, feel how I feel about Fred. I’ll never be the same, but Lee isn’t tiptoeing around me, waiting for the old George to pop up someday. He takes me just how I am, gaping wounds and all. Don’t get me wrong, it was a bit of a shock to me as well when it first… when he... when we…” He shook his head, clearly having difficulty talking about it.</p><p>“Hey, that’s all right. You don’t have to explain anything to me that you don’t want to. I’m honored that you told me.” Ron shook his head, the shock still heavy. He’d always wondered about Charlie, who remained unattached in Romania, but figured George would find his way to love once he’d wrestled the demons that’d haunted him since Fred’s death. Turned out, he was still wrestling, but had found love anyway. </p><p>George took a shaky breath. “Yeah? Merlin, Ron, I feel so much better. I didn’t even mean to say all of that tonight, but it just… came out. What I’d intended to tell you—or, rather, to offer you—is a full partnership in Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. I want your marketing skills put to use <i>here</i>. You go do the internship, but then branch out on your own. Don’t work for the agency you spoke to today. I’ll back you financially, get you started, kind of like Harry gave Fred and I his Triwizard earnings. Then you can take on any clients you want, build a business of your own doing what makes you happy. You’ll be able to work here as much or as little as you like, and you’ll have your first client the minute you’re up and running. What do you say?”</p><p>Ron gaped at his brother. His brain seemed to have completely stopped processing for a few seconds, then jolted him hard in the back. “You’re joking.”</p><p>“I assure you I am not. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, should have made you a partner a while ago, but kept dragging it out. I like how this has worked out, though. Just need you to say yes. You will say yes, right, Ron?”</p><p>“Let me see if I understand you correctly. You want me to take the internship, then after that’s over, you’ll help me set up my own marketing firm? And you’d <i>pay</i> me to design things for you?”</p><p>George grinned, the warmest grin Ron had seen from him in a long time. “I think you’ve got it.”</p><p>Ron shook his head in utter disbelief. “I... bloody hell, George! Yes, absolutely! That sounds incredible!” He threw his arms around his brother, clapping him on the back a few times before releasing him.</p>
<hr/><p>“You look amazing.” Ron grinned at the mirror so Pansy could see his expression. “It’s just a birthday dinner with my family.”</p><p>Pansy’s reflection rolled her eyes. “Your mother’s birthday. At your childhood home. With <i>all</i> of your family. I need to make a good impression.”</p><p>Ron stopped gathering his socks and went to stand behind her. He slid his hands around her, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You’re beautiful.” She leaned her head back against his chest and took a deep breath, her arms covering his. “And you already know half my family, and they all like you.”</p><p>She gave him a stern look. “George, Hermione, and Harry do not constitute half your family, Ron. In fact, I believe there’s only one actual family member in that short list.”</p><p>He shrugged and kissed the top of her head. “I like you. That’s enough for them.”</p><p>Pansy shook her head and stepped away. Ron let his arms drop and shoved his hands into his pockets. She sighed and smoothed the front of her dress. “I want them to like me,” she repeated, a slight waver in her tone. “I like you ever so much, and they’re your family. Your huge, sprawling family: your siblings, plus their families, lot of children, cousins, honorary family—”</p><p>“Malfoy will be there.” Ron went back to his task of getting ready to leave. </p><p>“Why do you always tell me about Draco? I mean, he’s my friend, but it’s not like we spend a lot of time together.” Pansy busied herself with putting on accessories.</p><p>“I just know you’re comfortable with him.” Ron finished tying his shoes. “And I want you to be comfortable.”</p><p>Pansy spun to face him, giving him a small smile. “I’m more comfortable with you than I ever was with Draco, you know.” She stepped to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. </p><p>Ron rested his hands on her waist and kissed her lightly. “I’m glad to hear that. But he’s another person you can talk to when I’m called away to help Mum or something.”</p><p>“I appreciate you thinking of me.” Pansy removed her shoes from her overnight bag and set about putting them on. “I can’t quite describe what’s making me anxious.” </p><p>“I wish you wouldn’t be. It’s just a family dinner.”</p><p>She gave him a look. “But it’s the first time you’re introducing me to your family. As your girlfriend. Aren’t you the least bit worried?”</p><p>Ron shook his head and pulled her toward him, kissing her breathless. When she sighed in that way that had a habit of making him forget everything in the world but her, he forced himself to stop kissing her. Resting his forehead on hers, he waited a moment for his blood to calm before speaking. “No, I’m not. Because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and they’re going to adore you just like I do.”</p><p>“But what if—”</p><p>He put a finger to her lips. “They accepted Malfoy, for Merlin’s sake. He regularly plays chess with Percy. You’ve nothing to worry about.”</p><p>Pansy pursed her lips, still clearly unconvinced. “And how long does this birthday event last? Am I adequately prepared?”</p><p>Ron rubbed the back of his neck, squinting at her. “There’s not exactly an end time. We can leave whenever we want. You know, after we’ve been there long enough.”</p><p>She huffed and crossed her arms. “How long is long enough?”</p><p>“There’s nothing set, really. Just the meal… sometime before two.”</p><p>Pansy’s eyes widened. “Before two? We’re supposed to be there at eleven!”</p><p>“I know, but you’ll see. The time will pass quickly. There’s always plenty to do.”</p><p>She bit her lip. “Am I dressed all right for this event?”</p><p>Ron let his eyes drift over her form. The silk dress was dark blue with dots of color. It had long, flowy sleeves cuffed at her wrists. The skirt came just to her knees, but she wore tall, camel-skin boots that covered her calves. Her hair was pulled up in a loose ponytail, wisps floating about her face. “You look beautiful.”</p><p>“You’re biased.” </p><p>“Quite so.” He grinned, extending his arm. “Are you ready to go?”</p><p> Pansy took a deep breath and nodded.</p><p>With her arm tucked neatly in his, Ron Apparated. They landed in the field just a few dozen yards from the house. It was his usual arrival spot; they all had one, to help prevent any mishaps. If he was truly being honest with himself, he felt a tad nervous, but only because Pansy had quickly come to mean the world to him. She was marvelous, beautiful, smart, and he loved her sharp tongue. For some reason he had yet to figure out, she liked him, too, and he had no intention of letting anything happen or messing up what they’d started. </p><p>He let go of her arm but only to slide his hand down and clasp hers, giving her a reassuring squeeze. They were close enough to the house that they could already hear the sounds of activity, and in a moment, a broom flew over their heads. Pansy gasped, pulling closer to Ron as he laughed. “We’re not the first arrivals. Come on.”</p><p>With a gentle tug, he led her through grass so tall it was over their heads, until they stepped through the edge into a large clearing. A twinge of doubt swept through him when he saw The Burrow, imagining it through her eyes. It was, of course, nothing like what she was used to, but he remembered that even Malfoy had come to appreciate the home for all its differences from where he’d grown up. Surely, if he and Pansy had any future, she would as well.</p><p>The first person they saw was Bill, tossing one of his youngest children in the air and catching the delighted, squealing child just before he hit the ground. Bill waved, and if he’d been surprised at seeing Ron with someone, he didn’t show it. If anything, his grin only widened as he picked up the next kid in line who wanted to be thrown as high into the air as Bill could manage.</p><p>“That’s Bill. All the kids love him; he’s probably the favorite uncle of all of us. He got injured by Greyback when the Death Eaters infiltrated Hogwarts, so he’s a lot stronger than he used to be. Naturally, the kids want him to do all kinds of wild things to them.” Another child screamed as she reached the peak of her flight, her red hair flying as she began to fall back toward Bill.</p><p>“Is nobody worried someone will fall?” Pansy looked a little concerned.</p><p>Ron chuckled. “Nah. There are at least two people watching and ready at all times.” He pointed to Fleur, who was busy with her youngest on a blanket. “She’s got her wand in hand, and I know part of her attention is on Bill. Dad’s over there.” He indicated a rusty shed on the edge of the large clearing. “He’s inside, tinkering, most likely. I can hear the sound from here. But I know he’s keeping an eye on things as well. Not that I’m worried. Bill hasn’t dropped anyone yet.”</p><p>They were too far for actual introductions, so Ron continued toward the house. He knew his mother, despite it being her birthday, was busy in the kitchen. When they reached the door, Ron paused and looked at Pansy. “All right?”</p><p>She nodded, her jaw set in determination. “I’m ready.”</p><p>Ron pushed open the door and they entered, finding themselves surrounded by a whirlwind of activity. Penelope, Percy’s wife, was with his mother, and they were both chatting animatedly and bustling about the kitchen. They’d spent so much time together in that space that they’d developed a shorthand language for communicating. It never ceased to amuse Ron that his most proper brother had such a gregarious wife. He suspected that Penelope was his mother’s favorite daughter-in-law, though of course, she’d never own up to it.</p><p>“Hullo, Mum!”</p><p>Molly spun round, her cheeks red but glowing with happiness. “Ron! You’re here!” She left the knife she’d been chopping with on its own and came over to them, throwing her arms around him in a warm embrace. </p><p>“Mum, this is Pansy. Pansy, this is my mother, Molly Weasley.”</p><p>Molly beamed. “Pansy! It’s lovely to finally meet you. Ron’s told us so much about you, I feel like we’ve known you for ages. Come on in, dear. Can I get you anything?”</p><p>“No, thank you. Would you like any help?”</p><p>Ron glanced at her in surprise.</p><p>“Oh, that’s sweet of you to offer, dear, but Penny and I have things managed.” She turned to Ron. “George is upstairs fishing for something in his old room. Ginny’s bringing someone, we’ve no idea who. She met him while playing on the Continent, but nobody knows a thing about it. Charlie went to grab a few things your father forgot. I’m not sure where Percy is.”</p><p>Ron chuckled. “Thanks, Mum.”</p><p>“Oh, and Hermione and Draco will be along with Lyra. Harry’s coming too, as well as Meda with Teddy.” Molly turned to Pansy. “They’re practically family now. Teddy just adores Bill, and of course, he loves Draco. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes dozens of times, I'd never have believed that man was so good with children, but I’m sure you’ve seen him with his daughter.”</p><p>Pansy laughed. "I'll never forget the first time I really got to see him with Lyra. It was a delightful surprise. ”</p><p>“It’s a wonder Hermione’s not pregnant again already.” Molly gave them a significant look. </p><p>Ron shook his head and scooted past his mother to grab something off one of the trays. “Want something?” he asked Pansy, pointing to a tray of meat and cheese. </p><p>“Not just now,” she replied.</p><p>He nodded and grabbed two cups, filled them with water, then kissed his mother on the cheek. “We’re going back outside.”</p><p>Once back in the fresh air, Pansy relaxed beside him. “That wasn’t so bad.”</p><p>“What did you expect?” At that moment, they saw Hermione and Draco emerge from the tall grass with Lyra. Draco waved at Bill, gave Hermione’s hand a squeeze, and led Lyra to where Bill was currently surrounded by at least twelve small children. Hermione carried a basket, and Ron knew from experience that it was full of pies she’d made with her mother. Molly loved pie, and Mrs. Granger made a lemon blueberry one that had become her favorite. </p><p>“Hullo!” Ron opened the door for Hermione as she approached the house. </p><p>“Thanks. Good to see you, Pansy!” She didn’t wait for a reply, and the door banged shut behind her.</p><p>“Come on. I’ll introduce you to everyone else.”</p>
<hr/><p>By the time they were ready to eat, two hours had flown by. Ginny had shocked everyone speechless by showing up with Blaise Zabini, a fact that amused Draco to no end. Turned out Blaise had wanted to finally act on a childhood crush, and Ginny had been keen to let him try. They’d been dating for a little over a month, slightly longer than Ron and Pansy. </p><p>When Lee arrived, Ron couldn’t help but watch to see if he could pick out any behavior from George that might give him away, but the two men were very careful. Of course, Lee had been a family friend for many years, and he was as comfortable with them as Harry and Hermione. Still, Ron wondered when George would tell everyone. He couldn’t keep himself from touching Pansy as often as possible, in little ways, and he knew it had to be difficult for George to keep his distance.</p><p>The meal was loud and chaotic, full of laughter and stories and jokes. Pansy seemed quite at home, sitting between Ron and Draco, with Blaise across the table. She’d greeted George warmly, spoken easily with everyone with whom she’d been introduced, and now she was laughing at a dramatic retelling of a particularly competitive Gryffindor Slytherin Quidditch game from their time at Hogwarts. Once, Ron thought he saw Lee’s easy smile soften when he looked at George, but it was so subtle nobody would have noticed unless they’d been watching for it.</p><p>When everyone had eaten their fill, Hermione brought out the pies. Molly blew candles out on one of them, laughing as smoke began to billow out from them. She merely gave George a lovingly exasperated look, then passed the smoking pie to him. George put out the spell, rubbed his hands together, and started to tuck in, eating straight from the tin! </p><p>“Hey, share now,” Lee said, grabbing a knife and pulling the pie away from George. He sliced it and served a piece to everyone at their end of the table.</p><p>Hermione had replaced the trick pie with another, and Molly happily began cutting pieces for those around her. </p><p>Fleur shooed the children away to eat on the blanket and a few people took their desserts elsewhere on the property to eat. </p><p>After polishing off his piece of pie, Ron tucked his arm around Pansy, pulling her close. She was deep in a conversation with Ginny and Blaise, and he was content to listen. The story Ginny was relating was about how she and Blaise had connected in Munich earlier in the year, though Pansy kept giving Blaise skeptical looks. Ginny finished the story and Blaise squeezed her hand. Ron didn’t miss the way Harry’s gaze lingered on Ginny, though it was more from fondness than affection. That romance had fizzled long ago.</p><p>Molly stood up then, and half the remaining guests jumped up, eager to help clear the table and put the food away. </p><p>Ron wrapped his arms around Pansy and she leaned against him. He leaned down to whisper, “Want to walk?”</p><p>“I want to see your old room.” He could hear the smile in her voice.</p><p>“I’ve no idea what Mum’s done with it. I doubt it looks the same since I’ve moved out.” He released her and stood, holding his hand out for her to take.</p><p>She accepted, threading her fingers through his. “Still. It’s a rite of passage, isn’t it?”</p><p>Ron chuckled. “So you’re going to take me to your room when I meet your family?” Pansy stiffened, her step faltering. Ron immediately regretted his words. “Oh, Pans, I didn’t mean anything by that. I—you don’t have to—”</p><p>“It’s all right, Ron. Of course, that’s a natural progression in any relationship.” Instead of going inside, Ron led Pansy to a quiet corner of the garden where they could talk. She released him and folded her arms across her chest. “It’s simply not something I’ve thought much about.”</p><p>He frowned. “You’ve not thought about it?”</p><p>Pansy bit her lip, then stomped her foot. “All right. Of course, I’ve thought about it. But I don’t know what to do. Or what to think. You’re… this—” She motioned between them. “It’s all so unexpected! And I’m…” She trailed off, looking away from him toward the wide, endless field that surrounded The Burrow. </p><p>Ron stepped close to her, taking one of her hands. With his free hand, he tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. “Pansy, you don’t need to explain anything to me. I know your relationship with your family is strained, at best, and that the cause of that tension is your mother’s wish for you to marry. And now suddenly, you’re dating someone. I know it’s complicated, and I understood when you said at the beginning that you didn’t want to tell your parents right away. What I said, while thoughtless, was only a joke. You don’t need to worry about this right now.” He shrugged. “Or ever. If you don’t want to.”</p><p>“It’s not that. I’m sorry. Your comment caught me off guard because of its lightness. The easy way you said it, like it’s no big deal.” Her shoulders slumped. “It sounds so nice. All of this today has been like something from a different world. I see why Draco values it so highly. We were raised completely differently, and…” She looked at him, a forced smile on her face. “Inviting me to meet your parents today is nothing like what it would be for you to meet mine. They’re worse than Draco’s parents, if you can believe it, because their position as parents of four daughters is vastly different than being the parents of an only son.”</p><p>“They didn’t accept Hermione. He just didn’t care and did what he wanted to do.”</p><p>Pansy wrapped her arms around herself. “That sounds really nice. But his mother at least wants to spend time with him. If I left my family, my mother wouldn’t extend a finger in effort to see me.”</p><p>Ron felt a heavy wave of sadness, and he pulled Pansy into his arms. She let him simply hold her for a long while. He wondered, for the first time, if there was any future for them. Hearing Pansy’s tales had all been something of a game, an amusement, after he’d first found her in the rain. The stories of her mother’s antics he’d heard since they’d started dating always had them laughing by the end, but in reality, there was no getting away from the fact that Pansy’s family would always be her family. They would never approve of him, and he couldn’t ask her to leave everything she’d ever known to be with him. They’d only been together a few weeks, but Pansy had been under steady pressure for years from her family, and dating him, without her mother knowing, could end terribly.</p><p>When Draco had decided to walk away from his family and all that went with it, it had been his choice, and he showed no signs of ever regretting it. He’d made a name for himself apart from his family, established a small fortune for himself, plus his mother desperately wanted him and her grandchild in her life. Ron figured that at some point in the future, they would fully reconcile. </p><p>Pansy had been working toward independence, but she didn’t consider herself to be there quite yet. She still had all the money they’d given her, untouched, in a separate vault. The truth was that she was afraid to take the final step, to walk away from her parents’ help. At least her sisters would always support her. Ron had met Holly briefly the day after Pansy’s disastrous birthday celebration, but what if they didn’t like him? </p><p>He didn’t want to dwell on such possibilities, but the seed had been planted in his mind. It was inevitable that they would have hard discussions early in their relationship. Would she want that? Would she think he was worth all the trouble? </p><p>He shook his head and kissed Pansy’s forehead. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves, yeah? Still want to see my room?”</p><p>Pansy laughed. “Maybe later. I think a walk sounds nicer right now.”</p><p>Ron nodded and took her hand. “A walk it is.”</p>
<hr/><p>The rest of the day flew by. Someone got up a Quidditch game in the afternoon, and Pansy encouraged Ron to join. For the first hour or so, whenever he looked for her, she was engaged in conversation with someone and appeared to be doing just fine. At some point she must have gone inside because he didn’t see her again until the game had ended. </p><p>Ron cast a few cleaning and freshening spells, then went to find Pansy. He hoped she wasn’t upset after their conversation. She was probably more than ready to leave, and he felt an odd sense of urgency to find her and take her home. </p><p>The last place he’d have expected to find her, however, was tucked in a corner of his parents’ bedroom, sitting beside his mother on a small settee looking at old photographs. He peeked around the corner just in time to see his mother hold one out to Pansy.</p><p>“And this was right after Percy found the Dazzlebug Fred had hidden under his pillow. George was ready with the camera.” </p><p>Pansy laughed as she watched the image on the photo move. Ron knew the picture well; it had always been one of Fred’s favorites. In it, Percy sees the bug and screams as though his life had been threatened, then waves his arms around as he runs in frantic circles, trying to escape the room. In his terror, he doesn’t realize that George, holding the camera, is blocking the exit. He just spins and runs until George can’t stay still and the image begins to shake with his laughter.</p><p>“Oh, here’s Ron when he—”</p><p>“Here you are.” He quickly stepped into the room, knowing his mother had no qualms about showing Pansy any of the embarrassing photos in her collection. “I’ve been looking for you.” </p><p>Pansy’s eyes were bright with mirth as her gaze found his, and she smiled warmly at him. </p><p>“How was the game, dear?” Molly asked.</p><p>“Fine. Charlie caught the Snitch, but I’m pretty certain Malfoy’s team won anyway. Bill and Ginny are unstoppable together.” He peeled off some of the Quidditch padding and joined Pansy, who seemed in no hurry to stop what she was doing.</p><p>“Your mother’s been showing me pictures.” She reached for his hand and pulled him close. “I especially liked the one of you in the frilly pink dress.”</p><p>Ron felt his cheeks burn and he scowled at his mother. “Did you have to show her that one?”</p><p>“Of course I did! It’s a mother’s rite of passage! You’ve not brought anybody home since Hermione, and well, some of these gems haven’t seen the light of day in years! Besides, you were two. Fred and George loved dressing you up in some of the hand-me-downs people gave me for Ginny. She was too little to dress up, so they did it with you.”</p><p>Ron snorted. “They just enjoyed trying to humiliate me. You’ll note they didn’t dress Ginny up, even when she <i>was</i> old enough.” He turned to Pansy. “You ready to go?”</p><p>Her expression turned to surprise. “Oh! If you really want to, I suppose. Your mother told me these evenings often end in a bonfire, which sounds absolutely lovely.”</p><p>It was Ron’s turn to be surprised. “Yeah, no, we can stay, that’s fine. I thought—but all right, then. I’ll just go get cleaned up, yeah?” </p><p>“Molly, I’m going for a refill on this delicious tea. Can I get you anything?” Pansy stood and picked up a tea cup Ron hadn’t noticed before, as well as a plate, empty save a few crumbs. </p><p>His mother beamed at her. “Oh, aren’t you a dear? I’m all right, thank you, Pansy.”</p><p>She gave Ron’s arm a squeeze as she walked by. Then Ron was alone with his mother. “Well? What do you think?” He sat on the spot Pansy had just vacated.</p><p>“She’s delightful, Ron! I’m very happy for you. We talked for the longest time, just the two of us. She’s smart as a whip, I think she’s very ambitious and has grand ideas for her future.” Molly set the box of photos aside. “I know you’ve not been dating long, but how do you feel about her?”</p><p>Ron glanced at the door, as though to make sure Pansy wasn’t there, then leaned close to his mother. “I like her a lot. She’s a lot of fun.” He shrugged. “As for being ambitious, she was in Slytherin, remember.”</p><p>Molly sighed dramatically. “I know it, and if I wasn’t so crazy about Draco, I’d wonder what’s happening in this world. First Hermione, then you, and Ginny as well? All with former Slytherin students. I’m not sure what to make of it, except that I simply adore Draco, and I’m well on my way to feeling the same for Pansy. I’ve not been able to speak to Blaise as much, but I’m not sure how serious Ginny is about him. He is handsome, though.”</p><p>“Right. Well, I should clean up.” He stood to go, but his mother grabbed his wrist, halting his exit.</p><p>“I do really like her, Ron. And your father and I are willing to do… whatever is necessary for her.”</p><p>Ron frowned. “What do you mean?”</p><p>She released him and flapped her hand about in the air. “I’m familiar with all the pureblood customs, though I think they’re a load of rubbish in the end. But whatever we can do to make Pansy more at ease, we’re very willing.”</p><p>Warmth and gratitude spread through him and Ron grinned at his mother. “Thanks, Mum. That means a lot.” He almost said he didn’t think it would be enough, but maybe, if they did everything technically correct, Pansy’s mother couldn’t find anything to say against him and she would at least leave Pansy in peace. </p><p>A few more hours passed in peace until Pansy and Ron were the last two remaining by the dying fire. They were sitting in an extra wide lawn chair, reclining slightly, hands twined and gazing up at the stars. The whispering fire and night bugs were the only sounds around them, and Ron felt more relaxed than he’d been in a long time. The day had been a complete success, if Pansy’s reluctance to leave was any indication. </p><p>She sighed and pulled his arm closer. “Today was perfect.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>Pansy hummed her assent. “I had no idea family could be like this. I loved talking with your mother. And Fleur is hilarious. She’s so sarcastic and snippy. George and Lee had me crying from laughing, watching Percy and Penelope is fascinating. They’re exact opposites. Bill is perfect with the children and endlessly patient, and your parents seem to truly love and savor every moment.” She turned her face toward him, close enough that her forehead brushed his chin. “I loved seeing you so relaxed. I mean, you’re always calm and thoughtful, but even more so here.”</p><p>Ron disengaged their hands to wrap his arm around her. Pansy snuggled against his side. “I wasn’t always this way. The war changed me. It changed everyone, of course. But I lost a brother. It really brought into perspective what’s important.”</p><p>“Oh? And what’s that?”</p><p>“Family. Time with people you care about. I also got an excessive dose of the fame I always thought I wanted.” He chuckled wryly. “It’s not as exciting as I thought it would be.”</p><p>“Why did you leave the DMLE?” </p><p>He sighed. “I realized that was Harry’s dream. For so long, I wanted to <i>be</i> Harry. Which is absurd, I know, but he had so many things I wanted. I took classes because he took them. I wanted to be an Auror because he wanted to. But when we both finally got through training and he immediately started thriving while I struggled, I finally listened to the voices in my head that had been telling me all along that it wasn’t for me.”</p><p>After a long moment of silence, Pansy let out a breath. “Today has given me a lot to think about. I’m really glad you brought me. And I wish I could be more relaxed when I think about telling my parents about us. I will, of course, but I think I’ve been trying to simply exist with you in this quiet space before I have to tell them. I’m afraid they won’t accept you. I’m nearly certain they won’t, and I’d like to say I don’t care about that, but—”</p><p>“It’s your family. Of course you care.” Ron pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. </p><p>“And I know this is ridiculously early to be thinking about it, but it’s been such a huge <i>thing</i> for the last four years of my life. It’s like no matter what, I can’t <i>not</i> think about it. I hate it. I just want to be with you.”</p><p>Ron pulled back so he could look her in the eye. “I don’t know what the future holds, but maybe we should get it over with. If we have to get through it, let’s get to it.”</p><p>“Spoken like a true Gryffindor.” Her tone was teasing with just a hint of uncertainty. She shifted slightly, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I mentioned it. I don’t want the day to end this way. It was such a good day. Though, I am disappointed that you never showed me your room.” Her smile was teasing.</p><p>Ron smirked. “I can show you my bedroom any time. Although, you’ve seen it. <i>Extensively</i>.”</p><p>Pansy laughed and kissed him, quickly deepening the kiss as she pressed her body against him. Briefly, he considered that someone could see them, if they wanted, but all thought was quickly pushed from his mind as her hands began to wander. After a few minutes of escalating snogging, Pansy abruptly stopped the kiss. “I think I’m ready to see your bedroom now.”</p>
<hr/><p>Ron was exhausted when he locked up the shop. He trudged up the stairs, kicked his shoes off, and flopped onto his bed. The two weeks that had passed since beginning the internship with Amberton &amp; Associates were the hardest he had ever worked in his life—his time at the DMLE included. He worked nonstop at the marketing firm for nine hours a day, running around doing whatever was needed, then went straight to the shop. Nobody George hired was as good as him, so he often found messes to clean up when he arrived. In fact, he probably worked more in the three evening hours than he used to work in a full day at Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. </p><p>It was completely worth it; he loved everything he was learning, and he enjoyed seeing the results of his efforts. Since the focus of his time was on learning all about design, he was more productive. And the wizard he was shadowing had nothing but good things to say about his work. </p><p>Still, though, he was completely spent at the end of each day, culminating in what was looking to be the second Friday night in a row he fell asleep without eating dinner. The week before, after his first week of his new schedule, he’d slept the entire night, nearly twelve hours, and woke to his stomach rumbling from its neglect. </p><p>After dozing a little for an hour or so, Ron finally flicked his wand to turn out the lights. A quick trip to the loo to brush his teeth and get ready for bed, though he didn’t even bother changing his clothes, then he was just drifting off to sleep until he heard a knock at the window. </p><p>He was so groggy it took him a few minutes to realize what was happening. He pushed himself up enough to look out the window, expecting to see an owl. Instead, he saw a flash of light, then heard what sounded like a small rock hitting the glass. Ron groaned and went to see who was trying to get his attention. </p><p>It was drizzling lightly, the perfect weather for a long, deep sleep in a warm, dry bed. The rain left streaks on the glass, making it difficult to see clearly. The street was mostly dark, except for a mass of yellow below, which he could only assume was the person throwing rocks. When his brain finally lurched into thought, he realized it was Pansy. He quickly opened the window and leaned out.  </p><p>She’d been just about to throw another rock, her arm drawn back, but when she saw him she waved instead. “I told my parents!”</p><p>When her words finally penetrated his sleep-fogged brain, he was finally, fully awake. “Want to come up?”</p><p>“No! Walk in the rain with me!” She spun slowly, her arms outstretched and her face tilted up. </p><p>Ron chuckled. “I’ll be right down.” He shut the window and pulled on his shoes, his heart racing. He suspected she’d had a little too much to drink, and he had no idea if her news was good or bad. He rushed through the shop and wrenched open the door to find Pansy standing just beyond the awning. </p><p>The rain was steadier now. Ron recognized that she was wearing another silk dress, and he tried to remember if she’d said anything about plans to see her parents. “Hey! Come under here with me!” He motioned for her to join him out of the rain, but she shook her head.</p><p>“I told my parents about you. About us.”</p><p>Ron nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets. “I take it that didn’t go well.”</p><p>She shook her head and water droplets flew out from the ends of her hair. “No.”</p><p>Pansy shivered and Ron held out his hand. “Will you please come here and let me dry you off?”</p><p>Teeth chattering, she accepted his hand, allowing him to pull her under the awning. </p><p>Ron quickly Transfigured his jacket into a warm cloak, cast a drying charm on her hair and wrapped the cloak around her. “Do you want to go inside to talk?”</p><p>She shook her head, shivering and wet but determined. “I’ve never seen my mother rendered speechless before. She has opinions about everything. But that’s getting ahead of things. She invited me over last minute tonight, and I wore my least favorite dress for the occasion, just in case, but for once, she didn’t ambush me with the next wizard on her list. Instead, she wanted to ask about Adrian. I think he mentioned to one of his friends that he was kind of interested in me, and that friend told another friend, and it went down the line until rumors reached my mother. When I told her there was no truth to what she’d heard, she didn’t want to believe me. And I wouldn’t budge on that, so she tried to convince me to contact him. I had every intention of ignoring her, but I suppose I finally snapped. I told them I had a boyfriend, and my mother could only gape at me. I think she honestly believed I was incapable of the feat without her. When she recovered sufficiently for speech, she asked who.” </p><p>Pansy paused to roll her eyes and bark a laugh. “When I told them your name, Mother went white. She stared at me as though she’d never seen me before. But here’s the best part! My father—my <i>father!</i>—actually spoke! He started asking me all the usual questions she does, only I could tell it was with a somewhat subversive tone.”</p><p>“What are the usual questions?” </p><p>“I had to repeat your name, then tell them your parents’ names, your siblings, everyone’s occupations, especially yours. He asked how far back your bloodlines go, but I got the sense that the bite in his tone wasn’t directed at me. There were questions about your Gringotts vault, which I told them, I hadn’t seen yet—my mother actually gasped, if you can believe it. But the war hero status should be enough to smooth that over, <i>if</i> she doesn’t try to find some excuse not to officially approve of you. I think that’s why my father did it, actually, because he wanted my mother to hear that you fit every ideal she’s established for me. If she refuses to accept our relationship, everyone will know that it’s not because you don’t meet her requirements.”</p><p>Ron frowned. “How did it end? What happens next?”</p><p>Pansy shrugged and grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m not sure, but I told them! I didn’t really wait for their response. Once I answered my father’s questions, I left before Mother had a chance to say much. It felt good to see her so shocked. And when I told them we’d been dating for a few weeks? I think that might have stunned her the most—the idea that I’d kept it from her. Plus, she hadn’t heard about it from any of her friends, and her circles are notorious for gossiping about everybody’s business. Though, that’s most likely because your family doesn’t run in those circles, and I’m so thankful for that.”  She smiled. “Have I told you how amazing it is that we’ve dated this long without word getting back to them?”</p><p>“Once or twice.” Ron chuckled. “Listen, Pansy, you obviously had a bit to drink at dinner. Would you like to come up? Go to sleep?”</p><p>“I can’t. I told Granger I’d spend the night with her, since Draco’s out of town on business.” She slumped against him, resting her head against his chest. “In the morning, we’re meeting Percy’s wife and going with all the kids to some market in London. I claimed that she needed my help with Lyra, but the truth is that I just want to buy her something that will annoy Granger.”</p><p>“I think Hermione would appreciate someone who could support herself. I’ll take you over there and leave you with her, yeah?”</p><p>Pansy hummed as she started rocking against him. </p><p>Ron quickly locked the shop behind him and Apparated them both. He knocked on Hermione’s door, which opened quickly. </p><p>“Is everything all right?” Hermione asked after seeing Pansy practically passed out in Ron’s arms. </p><p>“She’ll be fine. Needs to sleep, though.” He led Pansy into the house, straight to the sitting room, where he deposited her on the sofa. She immediately slumped over. </p><p>Hermione appeared concerned. “What happened?” </p><p>“She told her parents about us. It’s a wonder she didn’t Splinch herself Apparating to Diagon. She said you two have plans tomorrow with Lyra? You’re meeting Penny and her children?” Ron followed Hermione into the kitchen and helped himself to a cookie from the jar.</p><p>“Hey, those are Draco’s.” Hermione gave him a mischievous look while she prepared a cup of herbal tea for Pansy. </p><p>Ron shrugged and took another. “For good measure.”</p><p>When they went back into the sitting room, Pansy was asleep. Hermione set the mug down on the table beside her, cast a quick Stasis Charm, and covered her with a blanket. She motioned for Ron to follow her back to the kitchen and join her at the table. “Thanks for bringing her by. So, I take it things are still good with you two?”</p><p>“Yeah, really good. Better than anything I ever imagined.” Ron debated between water and some tea like Hermione had made for Pansy, finally deciding on the tea. While it stepped, he pressed his hands around the mug to warm them. “I never quite understood what you and Malfoy have. Even though you and I had been long over, I always felt like it was something in me. That there was a flaw deep inside that made you think I was unworthy.”</p><p>“Oh, Ron!” Hermione gasped and put her hand on his. “I’m so sorry you felt that way!”</p><p>“And then, you know, with my history with him, it just felt like he would always beat me at everything. But with Pansy, I feel like a million Galleons. Like I’m somebody. And I know that might be silly, considering, well, you know, everything, but I’ve always felt like I’m in somebody’s shadow. Harry’s, yours, my brothers… Even working at the shop, I was always in George’s shadow, even though he’d sometimes ask for my input on new products. That’s more Lee’s area, anyway.” He glanced toward the sitting room, where he could see that Pansy had tucked her legs up on the sofa. “Part of how I’m feeling is probably related to the surprising turn my life has taken with the internship, but I don’t feel that way right now. I <i>know</i> that much of it is because of her.</p><p>“It’s like I told George. If what you feel for Malfoy is anything like what I feel for her, then I understand everything now.” He smiled, his thoughts drifting to things he and Pansy had done together over the weeks since he’d asked her out. “And I think it’s wonderful. I’m thrilled for you and Malfoy. I wish Harry had someone, but he seems content enough right now.”</p><p>“Harry is exactly where he wants to be right now.” Hermione shook her head with a knowing smile. “I think someday he’ll be ready to think about settling down, but after everything with Ginny, with how serious it was, how they almost got married—he’s happy living his life right now only for himself.”</p><p>Ron chuckled. "Good point. The intensity of that relationship and breakup would make anyone hesitant to get into something too quickly."</p><p>"Just look at Ginny. How many blokes has she dated since Harry? Granted, she hasn't brought many round The Burrow, so seeing her with Blaise was a fun surprise. Draco told me he used to fancy her intensely at Hogwarts."</p><p>"Yeah? He was never really like the rest of that lot. I bet Ginny would have gone out with him. She went out with a few people, if memory serves."</p><p>Hermione gave him a look. "You were a bit hard on her, if you remember."</p><p>Ron sighed and sipped from his mug. "I do. That wasn't fair, to be sure. And I've apologized, so we're all good."</p><p>They were quiet for a few minutes, and Ron felt a peace in Hermione's presence he had never ever felt before, not even at the best point in their relationship. He'd always known Draco was well suited for Hermione, but part of him—a teeny, tiny part, one he hated to acknowledge—had always hoped Malfoy would turn out just how he was supposed to, meaning he'd mess up with Hermione and hurt her, leaving Ron to come in and pick up the pieces.</p><p>It was a wild fantasy borne from years of resentment and enmity. He knew, when he thought about it for any length of time, that he and Hermione weren’t well matched and likely never would be. He’d never wanted Hermione hurt, of course, but he’d wanted Malfoy to fail. </p><p>Now, though, he wanted nothing to do with that picture in his mind. All he could see when he looked toward the future was Pansy.</p><p>Hermione chuckled, drawing Ron from his musings. She smirked as she lifted her mug to her lips. “Looks like someone’s in love.”</p><p>Ron’s gaze snapped to hers, his eyes widening. He started to say something but decided against it. Was this love? It was absolutely, far and away better than anything else he’d ever experienced. And considering what he had just admitted to himself, that Pansy was all he wanted for his future, there was a very good chance Hermione was correct. </p><p>She usually was.</p><p>“I’ve never seen you like this, Ron. It’s wonderful. Truly. I’m very happy for you.”</p><p>He grinned, delighted with this realization, but his smile faltered slightly. “Huh. But what if… what if she doesn’t feel the same? Is that possible? Could she feel differently? I mean, I think you’re right now that you say it like that, but… could it be possible that I’d feel this way and she wouldn’t return these feelings?” It was a shocking, potentially horrifying discovery.</p><p>Hermione hummed lightly and looked thoughtful. “It’s always possible, I suppose. But in general, people fall in love together. One person might feel more strongly than the other at any given moment, but I think it’s rare that there could be a vast difference in feelings. And I don’t just mean attraction or sexual enjoyment. I mean true, deep, down to your core love is usually a shared experience. One sided-affection can only go so far.”</p><p>“So you… think she might feel the same?” His stomach was twisted in gnarly knots and he felt a sudden, desperate need for air. What if she didn’t? That future that he could picture so clearly, so vividly, featured her specifically, and now that he realized he wanted it more than anything else in the world, he also had to deal with the reality that she might not reciprocate.</p><p>“I think she might.” Hermione smiled mischievously. “We’ve not discussed it, and even if we had, I wouldn’t discuss it, but since we haven’t, I’m free to give my opinion. I think she either does or is on her way to feeling the same, but she’s got a lot more at stake than you. So she’ll be slower to let you in on what she’s feeling in her heart. That’s how it was for Draco. I was ready to be in love with him much sooner than he was, because for him, it meant so much. I also knew that, if he did get to that point, there’d be no going back because it would mean that he’d thought about everything that was involved in loving me that way. For him, it wasn’t just how he felt, but the weight of his past, the pressures of his family, and the expectations heaped on his shoulders. With me, many of those things couldn’t be reconciled, and he had to accept that. But once he did, he was a different man. He was lighter, more carefree. I’ll never forget the difference in him after he’d come to the conclusion in his mind. I knew before he told me that something drastic had changed, but it was still a week or two before he let me in on the secret.”</p><p>Ron nodded throughout Hermione’s speech. “I think I remember that as well. It was striking.”</p><p>“Yes! And even though he hadn’t said the words, I knew something wonderful had happened in his heart, and I allowed myself to feel what I’d been holding back. I knew, at least in theory, what it would mean for him to be in love with me, to consider a life with me, and so I reined in the expression of my heart to allow him room to grow and change and work through what he needed to work through first. Since it’s clear to me, your friend of many years, how you feel, I would caution you to do the same.”</p><p>“It seems like it would be a little different, though. She’d need to know that I want this future before she could think about joining me in it.” His gaze was drawn once more to the room where Pansy rested. She didn’t appear to have moved. </p><p>“Not necessarily. As the Malfoy heir, Draco had additional weights to consider, but Pansy is just as much a high society pureblood as he is. No, her family hasn’t rested all their hopes and future on her, but there <i>are</i> still extreme pressures. Add in the fact that she’s never felt secure in her family’s affections, she’s always felt like she wasn’t good enough, and she’s going to desperately want to please her parents, no matter how much she might love you.”</p><p>Ron frowned, deep in consideration of Hermione’s words. “So… I should let myself love her, give her my unconditional support and affection, but give her space to work through her family mess?”</p><p>Hermione beamed. “Ron! I’m so proud of you! You’ve truly grown so much. I think you’ve accurately summarized everything I just said.”</p><p>He chuckled. “I was dead to the world asleep when she woke me up. You’ve caught me in the perfect moment for optimum brain functioning. Nothing like this will ever happen again.”</p><p>She laughed, loudly enough that they both froze, hoping she hadn’t woken Pansy or Lyra. After a few long moments of quiet stillness, and a quick glance at the baby clock to see the little hand for Lyra still hovering over ‘asleep,’ they both relaxed. </p><p>“I should get going. Do you want help getting her into a room?” </p><p>Hermione shook her head. “Thank you, though. I’ll wake her after you leave, force a sober-up potion on her. One of my own, laced with a sleep aid so that she’ll drift into an easy, peaceful sleep.”</p><p>Ron stretched and yawned as he stood, already thinking of the warm bed that awaited him. “Thanks, Hermione. For listening.”</p><p>She smiled. “Any time, Ron. Draco has told me that he thinks you’re good for Pansy, though he refuses to speculate beyond that.” </p><p>He stopped and stared at Pansy, still sleeping on the sofa. “She’s so beautiful. How is it possible that she thinks anything much of me?”</p><p>“You’re wonderful, Ron.” Hermione squeezed his arm. “She’s lucky to have you. You and I… we didn’t fall apart because of you, I sincerely hope you know that. We weren’t right together. That’s all. I still adore you as a friend.”</p><p>“I know. Like I said earlier, I really understand it now. I’m glad we’re still friends, Hermione.” He gave her a quick hug, something he hadn’t felt comfortable doing in a very long time. But now, after their talk and considering everything with Pansy, he felt the last little tether between them, maintained solely on his end, vanish into thin air.</p>
<hr/>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. - five -</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center"><p>
    <i>But you watch the phone and hope it rings<br/>
You'll take her any way she sings<br/>
Or how she calls, the beauty of the rain<br/>
Is how it falls, how it falls, how it falls<br/>
How it falls, how it falls, how it falls</i>
  </p>
<hr/><p>5.</p></div><p>There was something decidedly contradictory about leaving the Sorcière office, with its stark white, clean lines and high fashion, and meeting Ron at the shop. They’d often go up to his flat where they’d pass the evening, and the two spaces could not be more different. </p><p>His place was small and ancient, with his bedroom open to the tiny kitchen and a sitting area. The walls were painted a strange shade of green, the furniture made from dark wood. Pipes ran through the room for no apparent reason; at any rate, they didn’t belong to his flat. There were large scorch marks on the floor under one of the two windows, the paint was peeling in one corner, and no matter how hard Ron tried, he couldn’t get a patch of floral wallpaper off the wall near his bed. </p><p>Neither location bore any resemblance to the home in which she’d grown up, which was full of stately rooms, antique furniture, and ancient relatives enshrined in magical portraits—and of course, silk everywhere. Pansy’s mother had a penchant for gold, and she bought gilded furniture and other items as much as she possibly could. Her parents’ home was large and cold, without any of the familiarity that had made The Burrow such a comfortable place to be.</p><p>Pansy’s own flat was bare. She had never been able to settle on a style she liked. She had taken Ron there on multiple occasions, and though it was bigger and more modern and technically superior in every way, she vastly preferred being at his flat. She felt she could truly relax there. She hadn’t spent many nights in her own bed for weeks, and for those she had, Ron had been with her. </p><p>Their attachment had been fast and strong, and she had spent many days and nights fretting in anticipation of being alarmed by the intensity of their connection—that alarm never came. She’d yet to feel the slightest bit concerned that she’d fallen for Ron so quickly and completely. Instead, she felt more alive than she ever had in her life, and she wasn’t anxious for that to be jeopardized.</p><p>Telling her parents had been a risk that she’d needed some liquid courage to take, but since that night, her mother simply pretended it hadn’t happened. This suited Pansy for the time being, even while knowing that it couldn’t last. She’d been invited to one dinner since that night, and it had been both the nicest and also the most strained evening with her parents she could remember. Her mother was terse and carried on her duties as hostess to the nth degree, but she wasn’t warm, didn’t mention Ron, and had made it clear she wanted the whole evening to be over almost immediately after it had begun.</p><p>Pansy didn’t mind. She was happy to spend time with Iris, who had joined for the evening because Steven was away on some business. The sisters chattered nonstop about wedding plans, and Iris had told Pansy to look for an invitation to a dinner party being thrown by the Notts to celebrate the engagement. </p><p>When the promised missive came, Pansy had asked Ron to go with her, he’d said yes, and she’d returned the RSVP with a plus one. </p><p>A week before the engagement party, the reality of what her response meant finally hit Pansy: Ron would be meeting her parents at the party. It didn’t have quite the weight of taking him home for a family dinner, but it was still daunting and, in some ways, more worrisome, as it would be a public meeting; she didn’t trust her mother not to make a scene. </p><p>She expressed her concerns to Ron the night before the party, though she didn’t want to go into great detail or express how deeply anxious she was. After dinner, she sat heavily in a chair beside him. “Do you realize what we’ve done?”</p><p>He froze, one eyebrow ticking up slightly. “I… do not. What have we done?”</p><p>Pansy folded her hands calmly in her lap. “We’re going to Iris’ engagement party next week.”</p><p>Ron frowned and nodded slowly. “I remember. I actually wrote it down.”</p><p>“My whole family will be there.” She watched for the significance of this pronouncement to sink in, but his face remained blank. “My <i>parents</i> will be there.”</p><p>“That… makes sense.” </p><p>She could tell he was trying to be understanding, but she realized he could have no concept of her apprehension. “Let me explain. Telling my parents about us, while important, is nothing to the idea of them meeting you. And this wouldn’t even be a formal, proper introduction. It’s not considered proper for you and I to be out in company—at least, in certain company—in this particular company, actually—before my parents have met you. There’s no telling what Mother will do or say.”</p><p>“Do you think she’d make a big scene?” </p><p>“Well, no, now that you mention it.” Pansy frowned, considering. “You’re absolutely right. Thank you. The last thing she’d ever want to do is cause a scene at the Nott’s home.” She smiled at him.</p><p>“I’m glad we’ll be getting this part over with.” He shrugged. “It’s causing you so much worry, and once it’s done, it will be done.”</p><p>She sighed. “I’m afraid it will have only begun.”</p>
<hr/><p>Pansy chose her dress with careful consideration. It had to be silk, naturally; she wanted to reflect well on her family. This was for Iris, after all, so she was determined to get through the evening as pleasantly as possible. Her gown was a pale green color which darkened slowly, beginning above the knee, all the way to the floor. It had a high neck and open back, and she chose a piece of jewelry to hang between her shoulder blades. Parvati had helped her select her attire, and she was grateful for the distraction. </p><p>Her nerves were too on edge to be focused on anything but the party and all that it would entail. When Ron arrived, she had been ready to leave for ten minutes. Her cloak was already fastened when he stepped into her flat. She was struck with some regret about being so ready, as she missed whatever look he might have given her upon seeing her in the gown because, for her part, she could only gape.</p><p>Ron wore an exquisite, fitted black suit with a crisp, white dress shirt. His shoes were shiny and fashionable, and he even wore cufflinks. His tattoo just peeked out over the collar of the shirt. His hair was styled for the occasion in a loose, careless, but careful way, and Pansy found her thoughts quite interrupted by the surprising—but not unwelcome—alteration in her boyfriend. </p><p>In fact, she found him so startlingly handsome that she was rendered speechless.</p><p>Ron was busy adjusting his sleeve, muttering under his breath, but when his attention turned to her, he smiled warmly. “I like your hair.”</p><p>Pansy shut her mouth, realizing she’d been openly gawking. “You look really nice, Ron.”</p><p>“Thanks.” His eyes swept over her briefly, and she thought she detected some disappointment at her cloak. “I’m sure you’re the most beautiful woman I’ll see tonight. I can’t wait to be proven right.”</p><p>She couldn’t help the blush, but she bustled about to hide her face. Her nerves were now even more on edge because she felt quite unequal to the task of standing beside him. “I didn’t know you owned such a suit.”</p><p>Ron looked down at himself. “Oh. Malfoy helped me pick it out. Lent me these.” He held up his arms to show her the cufflinks: simple gold rectangles. </p><p>“Oh, those are lovely.” She smiled up at him. “They’re perfect for tonight. I’m not surprised Draco would suggest them.” </p><p>He shrugged. “How are we traveling?”</p><p>“Portkey.” Pansy produced an old-fashioned key from her purse. “We leave in less than a minute.”</p><p>Ron gave her an intense look, wrapped his hand around her hand and the key, tugged her to him, and kissed her very soundly. She was on the verge of sighing with delight when she felt the first pull of the Portkey. He broke the kiss and grinned while it activated, jerking them through space and setting them down in the front garden of a large estate home. </p><p>There were lights everywhere throughout the exquisite garden and along the path leading to the house. Pansy settled her arm in Ron’s as they joined the other guests in walking toward the front door. She was reminded afresh of what awaited her that evening, but Ron stood so tall, so sure, that she was determined to match his mood and countenance no matter what.</p><p>Upon entry, Pansy led Ron to the cloak room and removed hers, handing it to the attendant. When she turned back to Ron, his eyes were locked on her with such heat that she blushed, warmth rushing through her. Her thoughts had been so scattered all evening that she’d completely forgotten about the gown she’d chosen it with him in mind. He immediately slid his hand to the small of her waist, under the pretense of guiding her out, and she felt fire at the touch on her bare skin. </p><p>He leaned in close so he could speak without being overheard. “I was right in my speculation earlier, but it still fell woefully short. You are breathtaking, Pansy Parkinson, and I look forward to exploring every inch of this dress—and what it’s hiding—later.”</p><p>She swallowed hard, slightly breathless at the low timbre of his voice, and nodded. </p><p>Once they were among the crowd, however, she had to force her thoughts away from Ron’s promise and onto the task at hand. For the first half-hour, Pansy was nothing but delighted by everything. The party was beautiful, the guests were interesting, and Ron surprised her at every turn with his easy, assured manners and his command of himself, despite being in a room full of people who’d said many nasty things about his family over the years. </p><p>When it was their turn to greet Iris and Steven, Pansy hugged her sister tightly. Iris was full of warmth and welcome, her eyes betraying the same surprise Pansy had seen from many that night. She welcomed Ron and introduced Steven, who immediately started asking questions about the joke shop. </p><p>Since the two men were momentarily focused elsewhere, Iris pulled Pansy aside. “It’s no wonder you’ve been keeping him to yourself, Pans. Merlin, he looks well.” Her eyes roved over Ron, lingering a moment on the fitted cut of his trousers. “Mother can have nothing to say about his appearance, that’s for sure. Though I doubt she’ll love the tattoo. I’m guessing you’ve seen it?”</p><p>Pansy rolled her eyes, silently pleased with her sister’s appraisal. “Have you seen mother yet?”</p><p>Iris shook her head. “You know how she likes to be late to these things. I would guess that she’s only now getting her shoes on.”</p><p>They chuckled, then it was time to move on and allow the next couple to greet the guests of honor. Pansy and Ron greeted Steven’s parents, Pansy warmly since she had known them since she was very young. </p><p>“Is Theo here somewhere?”</p><p>Mrs. Nott smiled serenely. “Yes, I saw him just a few moments ago. He brought his friend Marcus to keep him company. I do so wish he’d settle down, as Steven has done, with a nice witch.”</p><p>Pansy nodded and they took their leave. “Poor Mrs. Nott.”</p><p>“Why?” Ron asked. </p><p>“Theo prefers blokes. When we first arrived at Hogwarts, Marcus Flint was by far the favorite amongst both the sexes in Slytherin. I doubt it’s very serious; Theo’s never been serious about anything a day in his life.”</p><p>Ron merely nodded, his eyes scanning the room. After a moment, they widened in surprise. “Harry’s here.”</p><p>“Oh?” She followed his gaze to where he stood with Astoria Greengrass, who seemed as though she’d won the biggest prize of all by being on the arm of Harry Potter. He, however, merely looked bored. “Let’s go and see him, shall we?”</p><p>Ron readily agreed, and after a few minutes navigating the room, they approached the little group. Harry’s eyes lit up when he saw Ron, who almost broke decorum to greet his friend, but he remembered at the last second. </p><p>Pansy was, once again, surprised. She greeted Astoria and Daphne and was introduced to their dates. Harry she knew, of course, but Daphne’s date Charles was new to her. She then introduced Ron, and naturally Harry and Ron struck up a conversation, which Charles had no choice but to try and participate in. </p><p>“Your dress is lovely,” Astoria remarked. </p><p>“As is yours.” Pansy noted that Astoria had worn silk, one of the designs she had selected for a spread in the most recent issue of her magazine. </p><p>Daphne’s greeting was a bit warmer, as they’d been in the same year at Hogwarts. She pulled Pansy close. “Are you really with Ron Weasley?”</p><p>Pansy nodded, her eyes flitting to Astoria. “She’s with Harry, right?”</p><p>Daphne rolled her eyes. “They’re here together tonight, but that’s all. Though not from lack of effort on Astoria’s part. They met through his work, I can’t imagine how, since he’s just an Auror, but she’s been besotted ever since. Mother and I think it’s a harmless phase. I mean, look at him. He’s way more animated talking with Ron and Charles than he’s been all evening with Tori.”</p><p>Before Pansy could respond, someone walked up behind her and covered her eyes. “Guess who?”</p><p>She gasped and spun as the person dropped his hands. “Theo!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck. </p><p>He whistled when he pulled back, no doubt referring to the skin he’d felt during their quick embrace. With a raised eyebrow and a speculative look, he surveyed the immediate area for her most likely date, and his expression froze when his gaze fell on the group behind her. Theo grabbed her arm and pulled her close. “Is that… Harry Potter? Are you with <i>him?</i>”</p><p>Pansy chuckled. “It is, and I’m not. He’s here with Astoria.” Theo’s eyes raked over Harry in a way that made Pansy squirm. Marcus was standing just behind Theo, his attention elsewhere. She swatted Theo in the belly. “Leave off it. You’re both here with other people.”</p><p>He licked his lips, eyes narrowed playfully. “No rules that say we have to leave with the people we came with.” Then he stepped beside her, admitting himself to their circle, and spoke loud enough to disrupt everything that was going on. “Pansy, won’t you introduce me?”</p><p>She pursed her lips but did as he asked, going round the small group one at a time. And it might have been her imagination, but Harry seemed to take a slight step away from Astoria when Pansy came to him. <i>Interesting</i>. She ended with Ron, linking her arm through his, and Theo’s eyes widened. </p><p>“Oh, I remember hearing something like this! From Blaise. I confess I only listen to him half the time. But what a fabulous development. Does mother-dear know?” He tsked. “Surely she can’t, or he’d be roasted alive.”</p><p>“She knows.” Pansy didn’t elaborate, and Theo looked impressed.</p><p>“Congrats, then, Weasley.” He nodded at Ron with appreciation, then his eyes flicked over to Harry. </p><p>Marcus was deep in conversation with Charles, Astoria was whispering with her sister, leaving Pansy to watch the train wreck that was Theodore Nott flirting. He was unabashed in his approach to Harry, and Pansy knew enough of the ambushed man’s romantic past to know that Theo was wasting his time. Harry stuttered at first, leaving Ron to fill in the awkward silences. Eventually, though, Marcus and Charles pulled Ron into their conversation. </p><p>Pansy began seeking out her parents—her mother, especially—so that she could keep an eye on them throughout the evening and maneuver herself and Ron accordingly. She saw them the moment they entered and she ducked around Theo as her mother’s piercing gaze swept the room—likely looking for her. No, she wouldn’t be on a quest to find Iris, the beautiful bride, not with the narrowed eyes and set lips she sported. </p><p>Amaryllis was soon engaged in conversation, and the feeling of being sought faded. As her mother disappeared into the crowd, Pansy relaxed a little, though she couldn’t let her guard down much or for very long. </p><p>When she returned her attention to Theo and Harry, she found them deep in a heated discussion about some obscure Quidditch rule. Pansy knew Theo’s love of Quidditch extended only to its very fit players, so any heated argument from his side was designed purely to ruffle Harry’s feathers. And ruffled they were. The tips of Harry’s cheeks were tinged pink and he wore a severe scowl as he sent blow after blow at Theo, who seemed entirely unconcerned, yet answered him shot for shot. </p><p>“Bloody hell,” she muttered under her breath. Theo was nothing if not determined, and from the look on Potter’s face, he was about to experience an entirely new education, courtesy of his sparring partner. </p><p>Their little group broke up not long after. Pansy determined that her mother was near the bar and steered Ron in the opposite direction. She found Dahlia and introduced Ron to her and Felix. She was the quintessential oldest: considerate, respectful, and gracious. Felix, who frequented the Weasley’s shop, had some questions for Ron and even a suggestion for a new product, which made Dahlia roll her eyes.</p><p>“I bet he gets stopped all the time by people wanting to help or offer advice.”</p><p>Pansy shrugged. “I’ve not seen it. George is more likely to receive that kind of attention, I would think. Mostly people who aren’t used to Ron gawk because of his part in the war.”</p><p>“Oh, right. There’s also that.” Dahlia shook her head. “How could I have forgotten that itty bitty detail? How are things going with him? He’s not too full of himself, is he?”</p><p>“Ron? Oh my, no. If anything, he’s a little too self-deprecating. He never talks about that.” Pansy found his humility to be a good thing since they’d been on opposite sides of the war, and any talk by either of them could only bring up painful memories. They’d gone through their war talk early on in their relationship—the second date, she recalled—and they had both agreed that there was no reason to further discuss it.  </p><p>Dahlia gave Pansy’s hand a squeeze and smiled warmly at her. “I’m really happy for you.” Then her expression darkened and her eyes turned frantic. “Mother. Headed this way.”</p><p>Pansy sucked in a breath, grabbed Ron’s hand, and they melted into the crowd. </p><p>“What are you doing? Felix and I were in the middle of a conversation?” Ron seemed slightly annoyed and pulled them to a stop. </p><p>“My mother was coming.”</p><p>He pursed his lips and gave her an annoyed look. “Pansy. Let’s just get it over with, yeah? I don’t want to spend the evening being yanked out of conversations just to avoid her. What’s she going to do? We’re in a room full of people, the introduction can be made quickly, and we can stop this running. We’re not doing anything wrong.”</p><p>“I know that, but—”</p><p>“But you’re terrified. I know. I hate to see you this way.” He took her hands in his and brought one to his lips, fixing his eyes on hers all the while. “I wish you could relax and enjoy yourself.”</p><p>“Ha. That’s not likely. And you’ve no idea what my mother is capable of. She may not make a scene, but she doesn’t have to in order to get her point across. Or shoot her words like arrows.” Despite her words, however, Pansy was getting tired of the constant strain of trying to avoid her mother. It would be easiest to simply stop and let the introduction happen, no matter how it went. They might not even meet; there were so many people who’d come to celebrate Iris and Steven that it was possible they could go the entire night without—</p><p>“There you are, Pansy, darling.”</p><p>Pansy froze, her heart stopping for an instant before returning to pound against her rib cage. She plastered on a passable smile and turned. “Mother.” They exchanged the traditional French greeting, then Amaryllis stepped back to stand beside her husband. Her eyes were shrewd and calculating as they drifted from Pansy to Ron.</p><p>“Mother, this is Ron Weasley. Ron, my parents, Gerald and Amaryllis Parkinson.”</p><p>“How do you do?” Ron asked, extending his hand toward Gerald. </p><p>Pansy let out a breath of relief when her father didn’t hesitate to shake Ron’s hand. When he turned to her mother, she held her breath. Amaryllis arched an eyebrow, then turned her body toward Pansy. </p><p>“How long do you plan to keep this up, Pansy?”</p><p>“Keep what up?” She didn’t need to ask the question, but part of her wanted Ron to see just what they were dealing with.</p><p>Amaryllis rolled her eyes and motioned, waving her hand in Ron’s direction. “You know what I mean. I had hoped, after our little talk at dinner last time, that you’d gotten over this… amusement.”</p><p>Pansy set her jaw. “Must you do this? We’re here to celebrate Iris and Steven. It’s hardly the time—”</p><p>“You are the one who brought him, my dear. Out into our society, where he’s never been.” Amaryllis cast a look of deep, loathing pity at Ron. “It’s a wonder he hasn’t made a fool of himself already.”</p><p>Pansy saw red. “He’s been far more courteous than you have, Mother, and shown superior manners in this little tete-a-tete.”</p><p>Amaryllis opened her mouth but closed it again. “Pansy, I expect you for dinner tomorrow night so that we can discuss this… situation.”</p><p>“Mother, Ron is not a situation. He is my boyfriend.” Her mother recoiled as though struck, giving Pansy some satisfaction. “This isn’t an amusement or a passing fancy. The sooner you reconcile with that, the better.”</p><p>“Dinner.” Amaryllis spoke with venom in her words. “Do not even think about not showing up.”</p><p>Pansy wanted to scream at her mother, to rant and rail and make such a scene that it would be talked of for years, but she felt a hand wrap around her clenched fist. Ron didn’t say a word, barely moved to reach for her, yet the action grounded her and reminded her that she didn’t need to stoop to her mother’s antics. She could be the civilized one. </p><p>Barely.</p><p>“Dinner it is.” Pansy nodded curtly to her father, then spun on her heel and tried to disappear into the crowd. She expected Ron to follow right behind her, but when she reached one of the food tables, she found that he wasn’t with her. Surely her mother hadn’t done something, but then, Pansy wouldn’t put it past her. She started to panic as she looked around, but when she saw him, relief flooded over her. “You’re all right?”</p><p>He looked surprised. “Why shouldn’t I be?”</p><p>“I thought—never mind.” She gave him a genuine smile. “That’s over with. I’ll have to endure dinner, of course, but—”</p><p>“I’m coming with you. This buffet looks incredible and I’m starving. Let’s eat, yeah?” Without waiting for a reply, Ron took a plate from the stack and started piling food onto it. </p><p>She stood, rooted to spot, horrified by what he’d said. “What do you mean?”</p><p>Ron pointed to the spread. “Dinner? This is a dinner party, right?”</p><p>Before someone else could get in line, Pansy hurried beside him, taking a plate out of necessity. “I mean tomorrow night. You weren’t invited.”</p><p>He shrugged. “The way I see it, we’re in this together. If she’s going to disparage me, I’d like to be there to defend myself.”</p><p>“There’s no need for that, I can handle them.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t have to. They’re your parents, but they aren’t your masters.” </p><p>Pansy mindlessly filled her plate. "You really want to put yourself through that?"</p><p>"If you have to sit through it, the least I can do is support you." He grinned mischievously. "Besides, won't it make her really angry?"</p><p>She couldn't help the smile that grew as she thought of her mother's face when she showed up with Ron. "She'll be apoplectic."</p><p>"Seems like a good chance to start off the night at an advantage."</p><p>Pansy's smile faltered. "It won't matter. I don't think she'll ever relent."</p><p>"We won't know until we try, right? I mean, come on, I've faced Death Eaters. You think your mum is intimidating? Imagine being stuck in a dark, narrow space with two Death Eaters trying to kill you. Now, <i>that's</i> frightening. Not your narrow-minded mother."</p><p>With their plates filled, they found a small empty corner table where they could continue their conversation. "There's just so much to consider. And I don't know that I wouldn't put it past her to poison your dinner. If she even gives you any."</p><p>Ron laughed. He started to speak, but Harry sat down beside him, followed quickly by Astoria, Theo, and Marcus. Ron gave her hand a comforting squeeze. Pansy was determined not to think about the impending disaster any more that night.</p>
<hr/><p>Ron fulfilled his promise so thoroughly and satisfactorily that she had no time for thinking after the party. She fell asleep completely spent and didn’t wake until late the next morning. Her first thought upon opening her eyes, however, was about the dinner scheduled for that evening. Even before registering that Ron was up already, she was fretting over what they should do. </p><p>Pansy threw on some of Ron’s clothes that had been apportioned to her for whenever she stayed the night unexpectedly, and after going to the bathroom, she joined him in the small kitchen. </p><p>He gave her a lazy grin as he worked over the stove, monitoring the progress of eggs, bangers, and coffee. “Morning.”</p><p>“Ron. We need to talk about tonight.”</p><p>“Sure thing. But first, breakfast.” He held up a hand when she started to protest. “No, I insist. Surely as a Slytherin you understand the importance of a hearty meal. One can’t properly scheme and plot on an empty stomach.”</p><p>As if in agreement with his statement, her tummy growled, unable to ignore the delicious smells produced by his efforts. “Fine. After we eat. I’d like some tea, if you don’t mind.”</p><p>“Help yourself.”</p>
<hr/><p>After breakfast, however, they didn’t jump straight into the conversation. George called Ron down to help with something, even though Ron wasn’t technically scheduled to work. It wasn’t uncommon for George to seek Ron out if he was home, but he never kept him long. Pansy remained in his flat and occupied herself by writing out a list of everything that could go wrong.</p><p>Ron returned shortly before eleven and she was ready.</p><p>Or, at least, she’d thought she was. </p><p>When they were actually sitting down on the sofa to talk, she didn’t know where to start. </p><p>After a deep breath, she tried anyway. “The thing about my mother is…” She paused and pursed her lips. “What’s important to know about her…” Pansy shook her head. “She very possibly could—” The words Pansy couldn’t quite bring herself to say were so horrible she ended up biting her lip to keep from crying. Ron moved from sitting opposite her to beside her, and he put his arm around her shoulder. </p><p>He didn’t say anything, which probably contributed more than anything to her fully breaking down. She’d cried in front of him before, but never as his girlfriend, and she felt very self-conscious at first. Then Ron tucked her closer to him and started rubbing her back in slow, soothing circles, and she gave up caring about how she appeared. </p><p>Her tears were fast and intense but short-lived. There was something about having someone beside her whom she felt completely comfortable with that helped soothe the hurts even as she cried. His presence made it easier. </p><p>After a few minutes, she dried her tears, wiped her nose, and smiled at him through watery eyelashes. “What I was trying to say, very poorly, is that tonight might be truly awful, and I just don’t know what to do.”</p><p>His piercing blue eyes were kind, tinged with amusement. “What’s the worst that could happen?”</p><p>She threw up her hands, then peered down at the tissue wadded in her hand. “The worst thing? Ron, they could refuse to accept you! They could hate you! What if they make me choose? What if they cut me off? What about my job? What if I only have that job because of my parents? My sister’s getting married in March, and I can’t miss that!”</p><p>Ron gave her hand a squeeze. “All right. Let’s go through those one at a time. I don’t care if your parents don’t accept me. Do you?”</p><p>“Well, of course not, or I’d not be dating you. But it’s one thing for them not to accept you when we’ve been dating for two months and another altogether for them to disown me if things… progress.” It felt all kinds of strange to be having such a serious conversation with a man she’d been with less than two months.</p><p>“What would happen if they did that? Disowned you, I mean.”</p><p>Pansy thought about the question. “They’d stop sending me money every month, which is actually all right. I haven’t used their money in ages.”</p><p>He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? That’s pretty great, Pansy.”</p><p>She nodded. “It was something I was determined to do so that I could walk away from them if at any point I felt the need to. I always hoped, of course, that it wouldn’t come to such an extreme, but every family dinner since I made that decision has made me more determined to become independent. Not just of their money but of their influence.” Pansy paused. “Of course, my future would depend on my job at the magazine—at least right now. But what if they only hired me because of my family? What if, after my parents cut me off, they let me go because I no longer have my family’s influence?”</p><p>“You’d find a different job. It’s what everybody does.”</p><p>“I know that. But I’m not sure I could support myself without that job until I found a new one.”</p><p>Ron sighed. “Pansy, you’d be all right. You’ve got people who care about you who would help you out. Surely you know this.”</p><p>“But then I’m not truly independent, am I?”</p><p>“Being independent doesn’t mean never relying on others. It just means that, in general, you don’t need anyone to get through life with its normal flow.” He chuckled. “If something happened and I needed help, I’ve got my family, my brothers, my sister, and my friends. I know for a fact you’ve got your sisters and your friends. Malfoy wouldn’t let anything happen to you, nor Hermione, for that matter.”</p><p>Pansy bit her lip. She knew without a doubt that Draco would be there for her. As would Daphne, Theo, Blaise, and Millie. She breathed a little easier; her chest didn’t feel quite so tight. “All right. I understand that much. I think I still want to speak to my boss about why I was hired. Let me just send her a quick note.” It was a Sunday, but Pansy thought her boss would be willing to meet with her for a few minutes. Once the owl was on her way, Pansy returned to the sofa beside Ron.</p><p>He picked up right where they’d left off. “Your sisters wouldn’t cut you off, even if your parents did. And you’d have every right to be at Iris’ wedding—you’re in the bloody thing! There’s nothing your parents can do about that.”</p><p>“They’re paying for it,” Pansy muttered. “They could threaten to remove that if I’m in the wedding.”</p><p>Ron gaped for a moment “Do you think they’d do that?”</p><p>Pansy shrugged, feeling miserable “I honestly have no idea. It makes me sad to think that I can’t rule it out.”</p><p>“I know. I’m sorry, Pansy.”</p><p>Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. </p><p>Then Ron took a deep breath. “The biggest question, and the one that seems very unfair, is the one about making you choose. I think, as much as I’m enjoying getting to know you, and as much as I really want this to continue, it’s way too early for you to choose me over your parents.”</p><p>Pansy’s gaze darted to his and his expression was a brave one. She realized he didn’t want things between them to end, but he wasn’t going to put her in the same position her parents might. Her heart swelled, full of warm fuzzy feelings for him, a sensation she wasn’t accustomed to but was beginning to really enjoy. </p><p>Then she snorted. “Ron, there’s really no choice.” At his hesitant, hopeful expression, she smiled. “I’ve been working toward moving away from them anyway, remember? If they force the choice, it’s an easy one. I choose myself.”</p><p>His relief was visible as he grinned. “You can’t go wrong that way.”</p><p>“I should be the one to choose what makes me happy, and as it happens, for the foreseeable future, that includes you.” She felt a kind of relief at stating what she intended to do out loud. The deed wasn’t done yet—hopefully, she wouldn’t be pushed to that point—but she felt lighter after having released the words of her intentions into the world. </p><p>Ron, too, seemed to note the magnitude of what she’d said, and he took her hand, his eyes holding an intensity that made her breath catch and her heart race. He kissed her, and they didn’t stop until they were both sated, holding each other on the sofa while their heart rates slowed to normal.</p><p>Pansy was running her fingers through his hair as he rested his head on her chest when a tapping sounded at the window. Ron groaned, pushed himself up, and pulled on his trousers. Pansy found an extra blanket and covered herself, admiring the view as Ron admitted the bird. It was his own, the one Pansy had sent to her boss, and he had a letter tied to his leg. Ron removed it and brought it over to her. “For you.”</p><p>She sat up, tucking the blanket around her, and opened it eagerly while Ron went to the kitchen and put on a kettle. “It’s Elena. She said she can meet with me at three. What time is it now?” She gathered the various articles of clothing that were strewn around the sofa and started getting dressed.</p><p>“A little after one. I started to make tea, but I think I’d rather eat. Want to go out?” He leaned against the wall to the kitchen, gazing at her fondly. </p><p>He made her slightly breathless, standing with his arms folded over his chest, trousers slung low on his hips. She could see the part of his tattoo that covered his shoulder and upper arm: flames bursting from the phoenix on his back in an intricate swirling pattern that licked up his neck. </p><p>“Yes,” she said finally. “I’m quite hungry. Then I’ll meet with Elena and go to my flat to get ready for tonight. Dinner is served promptly at seven. Come to my flat around quarter of and we’ll go together by Floo.”</p><p>Ron nodded and pulled on a shirt. “Ready when you are.”</p>
<hr/><p>Pansy stared in her closet. It had once been full of gowns in a rainbow of colors, but over the course of the year, she’d systematically and ruthlessly ruined one after another, leaving her now with only a handful of simple dresses and the one she’d worn the night before to Iris’ party. She’d destroyed her last really extravagant one the night she’d told her parents about Ron. </p><p>There were three options for the evening: a black dress, a gray dress, and a white dress. Each conveyed some aspect of the emotions she was feeling. The black dress made her feel pretty but invisible. The white brought to mind silence and emptiness. The gray was somber, and reminded her of a rainy, dreary day. </p><p>With a sigh, she chose the black because it fit her well and best reflected her mood. She was ready for this final face off, if it came to it. She dressed as if for battle, with accessories that conjured images of armor. Over her dress, she wore a silver-colored neck piece that covered her shoulders and upper torso. On her wrists, she wore leather cuffs. Atop her head, she wore a circlet that she’d been drawn to at a photo shoot. She felt like a warrior.</p><p>At least she knew one thing: she didn’t have to worry about her job. Elena, her boss, had been surprised when she’d asked about the conditions of her employment, but she’d proceeded to be frank and open with her answers. Pansy had been hired at the behest of her parents, but her continued employment hadn’t had anything to do with them for a very long time. Elena assured her that she’d proven long ago that she had style, taste, and etiquette, and the magazine had no intention of letting her slip away. When Pansy asked if that would change if her parents publicly distanced themselves from her, disowned her even, Elena had rolled her eyes and scoffed, saying that she’d have been truly insulted if not for the earnest expression in Pansy’s eyes. She’d then kindly asked if she was all right, and Pansy poured out everything. From her parents’ expectations, the intolerable introductions to eligible wizards, to ruining her dresses, right up to falling in love with Ron Weasley, of all people.</p><p>The words were out of her mouth before she realized it, and Elena arched an eyebrow, causing Pansy to pause. She gasped as her confession sank into her brain, and she’d begged her boss not to say a word about it because she hadn’t even told Ron. Elena had assured her the secret was safe with her, and Pansy had thanked her for listening and left. </p><p>Ron was due to arrive in less than ten minutes, and she didn’t know what to do with herself until then. She was as ready as she could be, almost wishing she was still hurrying so that she didn’t have to sit and wait with her thoughts. </p><p>But he must have known that she would want him early, because the Floo roared to life just as she’d begun to despair over the worries in her head. </p><p>“You look incredible.” Ron took her in from head to toe. “A little scary, I’ll be honest, but beautiful.”</p><p>Pansy laughed, feeling a little of the tension in her body melt away. “Is it the armor?”</p><p>“No. It’s the heels.” He teased a smile at her and pulled her close for a quick kiss. “Need to talk?”</p><p>“I don’t know if it would do me any good. Just promise me you’ll stay with me. That you won’t hate me. That you won’t end the night deciding that I’m not worth all this trouble.”</p><p>“Pansy.” Ron leveled her with a kind, slightly flabbergasted look. “The more I know you, the more I think you’re worth a thousand awful dinners with your parents.”</p><p>She groaned. “Easy to say before you’ve even had one.”</p><p>Ron sighed. “It feels like I’ve been living through your family meals for months now, though. I’m anxious to have a crack at one in person.”</p><p>Her heart felt ready to burst and she had to blink rapidly, turning away so he wouldn’t read the intense emotion in her eyes. “Oh, can we just go? I don’t care if we’re early, and I’m going to burst with this waiting.”</p><p>"Of course. Whatever you want."</p>
<hr/><p>Her stomach was twisted in painful, roiling knots as she stepped out of the Floo, her hand tightly gripping Ron’s as though if she let go, he might disappear. Although, in truth, that might make the evening go better, but he’d adamantly refused to even consider not joining her. </p><p>Pansy mumbled for him to follow her, but Ron held her back. She gave him a questioning look, and he smirked, stepping close to her and pulling her in for a searing kiss. It was so intense she completely forgot where she was and what they were doing until someone cleared their throat.</p><p>Ron and Pansy broke apart, her head slightly spinning. </p><p>Amaryllis herself stood in the doorway, her face red with rage, knuckles white, and fists clenching her dress. Neither woman knew what to do, but Ron had no such difficulty. He stepped past Pansy with his hand extended. </p><p>“Hello, Mrs. Parkinson. I’m Ron Weasley, Pansy’s boyfriend. We weren’t quite properly introduced last night, and I know how important propriety is to you.”</p><p>Amaryllis opened and closed her mouth like a fish, then pursed her lips tightly. However, she also held her hand out, though not far enough to reach Ron’s. He had to take two steps closer in order to close the distance. As soon as possible, Amaryllis released his hand as though it had burned her. </p><p>Pansy had sufficiently recovered from the kiss and the shock of being discovered by her mother, of all people. “Hello, Mother. I’ve invited Ron to dine with us. I know how fond you are of such occasions with potential suitors.” </p><p>She didn’t wait for a reply but took Ron by the hand and led him from the Traveling Room. As they walked toward the dining room, Pansy acted as though it were the most natural thing in the world to be in her parents’ home with Ron, telling him about each room they passed and any interesting information she could think of about this portrait or that vase. </p><p>Ron played his part well, exclaiming over the furnishings or the tapestries, some little compliment about something in each room she mentioned. Pansy was delighted by his charm, though she knew it wouldn’t be nearly enough to counter her mother’s antipathy toward him. Still, she wouldn’t be able to complain about his lack of taste or interest. </p><p>When they finally reached the dining room, Pansy saw that there were only places set for three, which wasn’t surprising considering only three had been scheduled to eat. Without pause, she pulled out her wand and Conjured a chair and place setting for Ron across the table from hers. </p><p>Pansy’s father was already seated, and Amaryllis strode angrily to her place, yanked the chair out from the table, and sat roughly, scraping the legs on the floor as she scooted forward. Ron quirked an eyebrow, his expression bemused. He then helped Pansy into her chair, before he walked round the table to his place.</p><p>Instantly, the table was set with the appetizer course. As they’d discussed, they began selecting a few items to place on their plates, though every time Ron put something on his, it vanished. </p><p>Rather than lash out at her mother, like she wanted to, Pansy took a roll from her plate, leaned over, and fed it to Ron. He grinned at her appreciatively. </p><p>Amaryllis made a sound of disgust, and then all the food he’d selected appeared back on his plate. </p><p>Ron finished the bite Pansy had given him, then picked up a carrot. “Thank you ever so much for your hospitality. I know my presence is probably a shock.”</p><p>Pansy’s mother paid him no mind but turned instead to Pansy. “Why have you brought him here, Pansy? It’s the height of rudeness to bring an uninvited and, to be frank, unwelcome guest to dinner.”</p><p>She sat up straight and smiled at Ron. “Mother, it’s also considered extremely rude to ignore an introduction, as you did last night with Ron. Since you’re so eager for me to marry and settle down, I thought it only natural that I give you a chance to correct the slight. Ron is my boyfriend, whether you like it or not, and considering you usually throw wizards at me over dinner whom I’ve never even met, surely you cannot object to me bringing Ron.”</p><p>“I do object. I have always introduced you to fine, young men of quality, whose families are considered the best of the best. Weasleys are blood traitors, always have been, always will be. Any member of them is quite beneath your notice.”</p><p>Pansy clenched her jaw. In theory, it was a lovely idea to remain unaffected by anything her mother said, but she had never been too successful on that front. She’d been able to flit away those awful dinners as though she hadn’t a care in the world, but her patience was gone by the time she had to sit through the lectures that inevitably followed. She’d never been good at not rising to her mother’s bait, but she was determined to remain calm today. </p><p>“I’ve never heard you say such a thing about Draco, and he married a Muggle-born.”</p><p>Amaryllis’ eyes narrowed spitefully. “Oh, there’s plenty of talk about Draco Malfoy and his little stray. Do you really think that a half-blood will ever truly be accepted? Even with the Malfoy name, it’ll never be enough.”</p><p>“Well, at least you’re consistent then,” Pansy said with a sneer. She glanced at Ron to see that he was having a hard time not speaking. He’d come expecting to be insulted himself, but Pansy knew he wouldn’t tolerate her mother attacking Hermione’s family. Hopefully Amaryllis wouldn’t pick up on this; it could interfere with their strategy, such that it was.</p><p> "To answer your question though, rude as it was, Mother, I brought Ron because he's my boyfriend. We've been dating nearly two months." She smiled at him across the table. "Since you've been so eager for me to be serious with someone, I thought it was time for you to meet someone with whom I am very serious." She hoped he didn't mind her exaggerating the truth a little. Or rather, not the truth—she <i>was</i> in love with him—but the extent to which they had discussed things. </p><p>Amaryllis pursed her lips. "How is this possible, Pansy? Both your sisters have made excellent matches, and you were introduced to numerous fine young men."</p><p>"Ron is a fine young man, mother. He's an excellent man. And you seem to have conveniently left Holly out of your comparisons; don’t think I didn’t notice that.”</p><p>Pansy and her mother glared at each other for a long moment, then Amaryllis daintily dabbed her lips with her napkin. “This…” She waved her hand in Ron’s direction. “This is serious, you say?”</p><p>Not risking a glance at Ron, her eyes glued to her mother’s, Pansy nodded. “It is.”</p><p>There was silence in the room, broken only by the occasional clink of flatware coming from her father, who was eating as though absolutely nothing in the world was amiss. Pansy didn’t think she would ever understand him, though she desperately wished for him to speak up. Even if he stood with her mother, at least then Pansy would know what he was thinking. She’d felt a little warmth toward him the night she’d told them about Ron, when he’d gone through the usual list of questions her mother always asked, but he’d not drawn any conclusions or in any way indicated that he supported either of them. In fact, he’d actually seemed largely amused by the entire thing, which had stung. </p><p>Amaryllis tore her eyes from Pansy’s to look across the long table to her husband. “Gerald? What have you to say? They’re serious.”</p><p>Pansy’s father continued chewing the bite he’d just put into his mouth. Everyone watched as he swallowed, then took a long drink of water. “I think the veal is excellent tonight, my dear.”</p><p>Amaryllis slammed her fist on the table, startling Pansy and Ron. “Your daughter is in a relationship with this… individual here. He is not good enough for her or for this family. He does not meet the list of requirements we set down in writing so many years ago, when Dahlia came into the world. Pansy cannot be seen with this person in our circles; Iris’ party was embarrassing enough. I had to make every excuse I could think of to cover the shame whenever anyone mentioned it.”</p><p>Pansy sensed Ron look at her and she allowed herself to return his gaze. His jaw was set, and she could tell that he was livid. Probably not for himself, if she knew anything about him at all. Almost imperceptibly, she shook her head, indicating that it wasn’t the time for him to speak. </p><p>Gerald Parkinson leaned back in his seat and regarded Pansy, then Ron, finally turning his attention to his wife. “Ama, if you’ll recall, he ticks off all the boxes. I know you like a good revisionist history when it suits you, so allow me to remind you that, as per a certain agreement between us, I gave all control over raising our children to you.” He glanced at Pansy, his eyes full of sadness. “It is the greatest regret of my life. The list you refer to is yours and yours alone. I’ve not spoken two words to Mr. Weasley here, yet I can tell by his manners that he is a decent young man. I can tell by his attention to Pansy that he cares very deeply for her, and I can see in his jawline that he is moments away from disrupting the quiet you so prize at meal times with some choice words for you, whisking our daughter away and making her the happiest woman on earth. Do consider your friend, Narcissa, and the trials she has told you about, how she wishes things had turned out differently. Is that what you wish for yourself?”</p><p>Pansy saw her mother flinch at the mention of Narcissa but her eyes narrowed. “Wisely did I require that you have no hand in our children, Gerald. I see how easily swayed you’d have been, how ridiculously spoiled the girls would have turned out.”</p><p>Gerald chuckled. “You’ve two daughters who did everything you wished and turned out lovely despite your influence. One who can barely stand to look at you, and Pansy, whom you have belittled and troubled for years about settling down. Now that she’s found someone who, technically, meets your standards, you wish to deny her?”</p><p>“I will not have a child of mine end up a Weasley!” Amaryllis screeched. </p><p>Ron stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly on the floor, eyes blazing. </p><p>Pansy, with tears in her eyes over the revelation about her father, pleaded silently with him to stay quiet. </p><p>Ron looked at her incredulously but finally relented, sitting down again though at the edge of his seat, ready to spring up at a moment’s need. </p><p>“Ama.” Gerald’s voice was soft, yet sharp and commanding. “I’m nearly certain you’ve no say in the matter whatsoever.”</p><p>Pansy glanced at her mother. She was silently seething, her fists clenched, one around her fork, the other gripping the tablecloth. Her fierce gaze fell on Pansy, who refused to back down, staring at her mother with equal parts apathy and defiance. </p><p>Then Amaryllis smirked. “It’s not quite true that I’ve no say, Peter. No, I’ve still got a few cards to play. I refuse to pay so much as a knut for a wedding, Pansy. Nor will your father or I be in attendance. If you choose to continue this nonsense, you’ll be cut off completely. And when you do finally come to your senses, there will be no coming back. Like chopping off an arm.” She smiled triumphantly, as though she’d played an ace. </p><p>Pansy let out a slow, steady breath and looked at Ron. He was watching her, his face a mixture of fear, pain and admiration. Naturally, he would be afraid of losing her, and the pain in his expression likely came from assuming that he would be the cause of such an irreconcilable rift. She looked at him calmly and nodded. His brow furrowed in concern but Pansy only smiled. </p><p>She took her napkin off her lap, folded it neatly, and set it beside her plate. She hadn’t touched her food, so there was no flatware to replace. Then she looked to her father, tears threatening. “Father, I’ve always wondered why you were completely absent in our lives. Now I know. I wish it had been different; I believe I would have liked to get to know you.” </p><p>He smiled sadly at her, tears welling in his eyes. “I’d have liked that as well, dear Pansy.”</p><p>With a shaky breath, she turned to her mother. “I accept your terms, Mother. I’ve worked toward this moment for the last few years, never dreaming it would actually come to this point. But you have forced it, and so it must. Do whatever you have to do. Ron and I will be leaving now.”</p><p>Amaryllis gaped at her daughter, astonished that her efforts had been rebuffed. Ron was around the table and at Pansy’s side in a flash, gripping her hand as though he never wanted to let her go. </p><p>“Goodbye, Mother.” Pansy’s heart was racing, yet she felt lighter than she could ever remember feeling. “And Father, maybe now that I won’t be your daughter any longer, we can be friends.”</p><p>His eyes sparkled. “That sounds lovely.”</p><p>Pansy led Ron from the room and down the hall toward the fireplace. When they turned a corner, out of the hall where the dining room was located, Pansy started shaking. She felt dizzy, as the reality of what had happened crashed down on her. Ron put his arm around her to support her and guided her the rest of the way. At the door, however, Pansy stopped him. </p><p>“What’s wrong?” he asked, sounding extremely concerned. “What do you need?”</p><p>“I’m all right, that was just intense. Take me somewhere, though. I don’t want to go home. Or to your flat. Or Hermione’s.”</p><p>Ron nodded and took hold of her arm to prepare for Apparition. “Ready?”</p><p>She nodded, despite feeling slightly dizzy and weak. As soon as she felt him Apparate, she shut her eyes, willing herself not to be sick. When they landed, she heard the sound of waves before she opened her eyes. She smelled the salty scene of the ocean and she instantly felt better, relaxing so much that Ron worried once more that she would faint. </p><p>But when she opened her eyes, she sighed with joy. “Oh, Ron. This is perfect.”</p><p>“We’re not finished yet.” Her hand still in his, he pulled her gently but determinedly toward the water, stopping only long enough to pull off his shoes. Pansy followed his lead, thinking that they would wade in the surf. Instead, he led her deeper, until the hem of her dress, which came to just below her knee, dipped into the water. She thought they’d surely stop there, but he kept leading her farther out. </p><p>“Ron?” Her voice felt small, surrounded by the crashing waves, but he heard her and paused. </p><p>Then he spun around and stepped closer, his gaze intense as he searched her eyes as though trying to see inside her. “Are you sure, Pansy? About all of this? About what you just said to your mother? Walking away from your family?” He let out a low whistle and shook his head. “If you want to change your mind, I’d understand. I know they’re not perfect, but it’s your family. I can’t imagine giving them up. Just say the word, and you can go back there and fix things with them.”</p><p>Pansy felt hurt. “I don’t want to go back, Ron. There’s nothing to fix, surely you saw that!”</p><p>He grimaced. “Is that really all you have? That’s what it’s like all the time?”</p><p>“Yes, Ron. You saw my father! That’s the most I’ve heard him speak at one time for most of my life! And now I understand why, and it makes me want to scream!” She tried stamping her foot, but of course, she was knee-deep in the ocean, attempting to stay in one place despite the constant barrage of waves. Ron steadied her as she nearly lost her balance. When she felt firmly planted again, she continued. “I’m not going back there, Ron. There’s nothing you can say to change that.”</p><p>He drew a hand through his hair, gazing to the side before turning to stare down at the water. “It’s just… I’m not… Are you sure you want to do this over me? Not because of me, I know you’re doing this for you, but… I am the catalyst, in a way, and maybe you’d rather wait and make sure I’m worth the sacrifice.”</p><p>Pansy had to bite her lip to keep from confessing the true extent of her feelings. It felt perfectly natural, in that moment, to tell him she loved him, but she was too raw and tender to take the risk of giving wings to her heart’s deepest desire. She raised her hand to touch his cheek, lightly brushing the skin with her thumb. “Ron Weasley, you are infinitely worthy. I’m the lucky one.”</p><p>His eyes were locked on hers for another half-minute, then his face broke into a grin. “Are you certain?” His words still sought assurance, but he pulled her into his arms, pressing her close against him. </p><p>“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.” </p><p>She expected him to kiss her, and her heart thudded in her chest while they gazed at each other. “Do you trust me?” </p><p>She nodded. His grin slid into something a touch mischievous, and without warning, he wrapped her up close and pulled her down into the water with him. Instantly he released her, and they both hurried to stand once more. Pansy was shocked, spluttering and wiping salt water from her eyes. She pulled her hair out of her face and gaped at him to find him grinning even more wildly. </p><p>Ron spread his arms wide and shouted, “Pansy Parkinson, I’m in love with you!”</p><p>Pansy gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. </p><p>Ron rushed back to her, lowered her hand, and captured her lips in a searing kiss. They stood knee-deep in the water, dripping everywhere, snogging like there was no tomorrow. When his lips left hers to trail down her neck, a stray thought occurred to Pansy.</p><p>“Wait!” she cried, grabbing his face and bringing it up so she could look him in the eye. “I love you, too.”</p><p>Resuming the kiss was his only reply, his hands eager and unrestrained. The water beat against them in a steady rhythm, but neither noticed. It wasn’t long, however, before his probing exploration produced a ripping sound. They both froze and glanced down at Pansy’s front, where, when Ron reluctantly peeled his hand away, the fragile silk had split in two. Honestly, it was a wonder it had lasted so long. </p><p>“Oops.” Pansy giggled. </p><p>“We had to ruin this dress, Pansy. It’s what you do after a disastrous night with them.” He kissed her chastely on the lips. “And I need you to know that I will do this every time with you. I will be by your side. I will walk through rain and storm and oceans with you. I will—”</p><p>She kissed him. </p><p>Her future was fresh and new, and there was so much she didn’t know. But she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that she would never regret the choices she’d made that day, and she would forever be thankful that Ron Weasley had insisted on helping her out of the rain.</p>
<hr/>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>